Forbidden Fruit
by KatyJane75
Summary: Ana and Christian are both young professionals trying to find their way. But will her past encounter with fellow intern Jack prevent them from moving forward? Is it better to deny the chemistry or venture into forbidden territory?
1. Part One

**I hope you enjoy this short story that I wrote for the "FSOG FanFic Followers _Hot Summer Nights_ " challenge. It wasn't a winner, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Leave me a review and let me know if you enjoyed it too! I do have bits and pieces of 'what comes next,' so tell me if you want to hear more about those hot summer nights! **

**Forbidden Fruit**

 _ **Should you take a bite... or not?**_

 _You know what? Screw him and his stupid ideas. I'm done. Over it. He deserves what he gets._

"Ana?" It's Kate. "Are you coming tonight? Pretty please?"

Her hopeful tone breaks through my funk and I laugh. She knows that I can't drink, that I am the perfect D.D. "Fine. You know what? I could blow off some steam."

We grin. The last two weeks have been... horrible. _A pressure cooker._

It's late June, and Kate and I have been living in Seattle for six weeks. She has an internship at _The Seattle Times_ , and her boss is hosting a cookout at his beach house. It's only about a fifteen-minute drive from our Montlake bungalow, but definitely several steps up in social status. The beach house is perched overlooking the water, and steps lead from the side yard down to the beach.

We make our way down the steps onto a path that ends at the rocky shore. Huge cooking grates are set up, and the air is filled with the smell of salmon grilling. There are long tables of food, and I set my bowl of homemade pasta salad on one of them. Kate's contribution is a case of beer, and I help her add it to one of the ice-filled tubs. There's a pile of driftwood set up for a fire, with logs for seating placed around it.

Kate introduces me to a few people, then starts doing shots with a guy from the newsroom. I roll my eyes. She's all blonde and curvy, with a tight dress and an outgoing personality. She's in her element, and the guys are like bees to honey. Soon there's a crowd around her, and I am free to fade into the background.

 _How am I supposed to blow off steam without drinking? Who knows._ I head over to one of the logs that are set up around the fire. It's quieter over here, and I pull out my copy of _Tess of the d'Urbervilles_. Like me, she's found herself in a compromising situation. And I'm transported away from the beach and into Tess's world...

A male voice interrupts my reading. "Mind if I sit?"

I look up and he towering over me. Even silhouetted against the sun, I can tell he's tall and muscular...

 _Um, shit. This is not what I need right now. This is the opposite of what I need right now. But what do I say? No, I wanted this log all to myself?  
_  
"Um, no... Go ahead." I scoot over a bit.

He sits, leans forward to see the title of my book, and smirks. "A little light reading?"

 _Um, well... yes. I'm a bookworm, and I can't drink, so..._ I shrug. "My roommate's an intern at _The Times_ and... parties aren't my thing. Books are." And I try to get back to my book, but he's still looking at me. He's intrigued now. _Crap.  
_  
"I'm Christian... Christian Grey. I kind of got dragged here tonight too. My brother's in construction and he just re-built the deck on this house. The guy invited him to come over and grab a beer tonight. It's just supposed to be a quick stop, but…" He gestures over to where a group is still gathered around Kate. _Yep, like bees to honey…_

I nod. Oh I know how it goes. "I'm Ana..."

"Hello, Ana. I'm going to grab a beer. Want one?"

"Um... no thanks. I promised to be the D.D. tonight." He nods and walks over the the ice buckets.

 _I should leave. I should get up and disappear... But what am I going to do? Hide?_

He comes back with a bottle of beer and a can of Diet Coke. "For the D.D."

"Thanks," I say.

He sits quietly for a minute, sipping his beer. _Good. Yes, please lose interest and move on. Believe me, it's for the best.  
_  
"So, are you both new graduates? You said you roommate's an intern?" He asks.

"Yep. From WSU-Vancouver. Um, except I'm at SIP? Seattle Independent Publishing?"

"Ah, publishing… very up and coming…"

I blush. "I'm just an intern."

"Never say 'just' Ana. As long as you're doing what you love, that's all that matters."

"So what about you?"

"I'm 'just' a college drop-out. Harvard." He gives me a megawatt grin, and I can't help but grin back. "But seriously… I'm starting my own company, and I was anxious to get started. I borrowed some seed money from an old friend."

 _Wow, is this guy for real? So he's about my age and starting his own company? Talk about up and coming._ He's incredibly good-looking, but still boyish with his tousled copper hair and wide grin.

Why is he even talking to me? I look about sixteen on a good day. I'm skinny, my brown hair is in braids, and I'm wearing a thermal shirt and overalls. _Overalls!_ So this isn't even a good day...

I pop the top on the Diet Coke, take a drink. Oh, that's good... I love Diet Coke and I haven't had one in... two weeks. I know it's been two weeks. Exactly. I didn't plan for this baby and I haven't decided if I'm keeping it. But, just in case, I'm avoiding alcohol and caffeine.

"Wow," I say, "Your own company? What kind of company?"

He raises one hand and gestures in the air in front of us, like he's putting his name on a skyscraper. "Grey Enterprises Holdings, Incorporated," he says. "GEH. I like recognizing small companies that are in trouble. I want to turn them around and make them profitable again. Or," he shrugs, "if needed, break them up and sell the pieces."

"That sounds kind of ruthless," I say.

"It's a ruthless world, Ana," he says. "It's like a game. There's money to be made, and I want IN."

I laugh. _Oh, I have no doubt that this guy will come out on top._

"So which one's your roommate?"

"The one in the middle," I say, gesturing to the crowd. "Cheerleader."

"Yep." Kate was a legend on campus... head cheerleader, singer of the national anthem at practically every event. She dated like half of the guys at college, and now she's making her way into the Seattle scene like a blonde bulldozer. And I'm the one who's knocked up after one lousy time. One tiny slip in judgment. _Nope, life isn't fair.  
_  
"So are you a cheerleader too?"

I laugh out loud. "Do I look like a college cheerleader? I mean, look at me."

"I am."

 _Oh shit. No, no, no. What is wrong with this guy? This incredibly hot guy..._ Surely there are at least twenty gorgeous, curvy women at this party who would giggle and fawn over him. I mean, I would if I were them. _But I'm not them. And I can't.  
_  
Oh but he's sweet and he's gazing at me with the most intent, smoky gray eyes... Surely I can just talk to the guy? I'm supposed to be here to have a little fun, take the edge off. _There's no harm in that, right?_ And so I do. I drop my guard and tell him about being the tag-along in a cheerleader world. How I have been everything from the water girl to the team tutor. He laughs when I tell him about carrying the giant water jugs - by myself - and I am like 105 pounds dripping wet. And how some people just cannot... CANNOT conjugate a verb to save their lives.

He talks about how he just bought his first company with the seed money from his friend. It's a small shipbuilding yard in Bremerton. He hopes to expand the company into manufacturing custom wooden sailboats.

We both love foreign films. He's travelled all over. _I'd love to travel..._ We talk and talk... and laugh. Oh, where was this guy two months ago? I could have avoided stupid Jack Hyde and all this. _If I'd had a boyfriend already when I started working at SIP. If I hadn't gone for drinks with him that first Friday night…_

Then he does it. Christian reaches over and skims my bottom lip with his thumb. _He's going to... Please don't...  
_  
I jump back. I actually jump. _Sorry!_ "Um, sorry..." I say. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to use the restroom. Do you want another beer?"

"Sure," he says, pulling back and looking wary. "Thanks."

 _Oh you'll thank me later. Believe me. And I'm sorry. Really, really sorry._

I go over and pick my way through the group surrounding Kate, tell her I'm not feeling well, and make her promise to call me for a ride or get a cab. Then I find her friend from the newsroom. _She introduced us earlier… his name is… Mike! That's it._

"Um, Mike?" I say, grabbing a beer from the ice bucket. "See that guy over there? Can you wait a few minutes, then give him this beer? Say it's from Ana?"

He looks a little puzzled, then shrugs and nods.

And that's it... I'm gone. I hightail it to the car and I'm out of there.

2 months later...

It's the first weekend in September and we are having a heat wave. In Seattle. It's ninety degrees, and I am on a chaise on the front porch trying to catch a breeze. Kate's parents bought her this little bungalow when she graduated and moved here to Seattle in May. We've been living with another roommate, Mallory, but now she's moving in with her boyfriend.

Mallory is one of Kate's cheerleading friends, and she and I have never been close. O _kay, she's pretty much a bitch._ I am right in the middle of a good book, so I am only vaguely aware of what's going on around me. Mallory's boyfriend and a couple of other guys are trudging back and forth across the porch, lugging her stuff to a waiting U-Haul.

Then a set of footsteps stops suddenly, right by where I'm sitting. I look up and... _Oh shit_. It's him. Christian. Oh no, no, no. It's hot and I am completely exposed here. I am only wearing a tank top and shorts and under my tank top is my very noticeable belly. Shit! Why can't it be cold enough for a blanket? Even a nice, baggy flannel shirt?

"Ana." He says, surprise and shock registering in his voice.

"Hi Christian..." Crap! I left the guy hanging... totally ditched him. What do I say? "So you're helping Mallory move?"

"Yeah... she's moving in with one of my roommates." He pauses. "Small world, huh?"

Yep, and getting smaller... I just smile and nod. I don't know what else to say.

"Well," he says, "better get back to it."

The next hour is torture. They continue to walk back and forth. And I pretend to read. Maybe I can sneak inside? No, I'll just pass him on the stairs. Ugh! I bend the knee on my leg closest to them, try to position my book over my bump. But I know it's too late. He saw. I hear them finishing up, clinking bottles of beer in the living room.

And then they all leave, shouting good-byes, getting in their cars and the U-Haul. Except one. He comes back up onto the porch, walks over to my chaise.

"Can I join you?"

 _Is he serious?_ This guy is a glutton for punishment.

"No... go ahead." I say and bend my other knee up, so he has room at the foot of the chaise.

"So," He says, "What's been up with you?"

I laugh. Seriously?! "If I said 'not much' would you believe me?"

Now he laughs. "No, probably not." Then, "You totally ditched me at that party."

 _Oh I know... and now you can guess why._ "I know," I say, "I freaked out a little. I was going through a rough time. I just... couldn't."

He gives me a sad smile. "I didn't stop thinking about you... for weeks. I can't explain it," he shrugs. "And just when I think it wasn't meant to be… Well, here you are."

I don't even know what to say. I've been thinking about him too. All the _what ifs..._ "I'm sorry," I say. "Really." _Okay, now GO. Go get on with your life.  
_  
"Are you still with him?" He asks.

Who? Oh... "No."

"Let's go for a walk."

Um, is he serious? Really... just go. It's for your own good. Please just... but instead I say, "Okay. Let me go find some shoes."

I get up quickly, kind of shielding myself with my book, and head inside. _Crap! What am I doing?_ I dash upstairs and grab my Chucks. And I need some sort of... Why isn't it parka weather? I grab a sleeveless gray hoodie. It's not great, but it will have to do. I pull out my hair tie and comb through my hair quickly, put it back up, smooth my bangs to one side. I throw my phone and keys into the hoodie pockets and scurry back downstairs. _Maybe he came to his senses and left... Nope. He's still there, in living color, on my porch._

He stands. "Ready?"

Um, no. "Yep."

I lock up and we walk in silence the few blocks to the waterfront. It's low tide, the pebbled beach strewn with seaweed and driftwood.

We walk along the shore, both lost in our own thoughts, to the point. We make our way out on the boulders and finally sit - looking out at the water.

"So," he says, "I barely touched you, and I show up months later... to find this." He gestures to my belly.

I laugh out loud. Hard. I can't help it. _What is it with this guy and his sense of humor that can defuse any situation?  
_  
I catch my breath, smile at him. "And I enjoyed it... really. But even you aren't… that talented."

He smiles back, just waits.

I sober. "I had just broken up with him, my 'boyfriend' earlier that day." I shrug. "He and I had very different ideas about how to handle the... situation."

He's still sitting quietly, waiting for me to finish.

"We weren't really together. It was just a one-time thing, after too many beers. I had just started my new job, my adult life. I wanted to fit in… Anyway, afterwards the - um, situation - kind of forced us together for a couple of weeks. But then I dumped him." I grin.

"Not good enough for you?"

"Nope. Not by a long shot."

We sit quietly for a few minutes.

"So you weren't... up for it. That night. I guess I get it."

"I wanted to be. I wish I had met you a couple of months earlier. That's for sure."

After another minute, he asks, "So what's it like... being... you know..."

"Pregnant?"

He nods.

I just look at him... considering the question.

"Sorry... I shouldn't have asked you that. It's too personal."

"No," I say quickly, "it's... I don't know... weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. I mean, like I'm supposed to be all emotional or super dramatic or have strange cravings... but I don't. I just feel like... myself. Well, a freaked out, ever-expanding version of myself anyway." I grin.

He laughs, "Freaked out? Yeah I guess I would be freaked out too. So how long, I mean... when?"

"I'm about four months, so mid-February?"

He's quiet again. _Okay, so... change of subject. Please!  
_  
"Did you grow up around here?" He asks.

I tell him about growing up in Montesano with my step-father, Ray. That he's amazing and has always been there for me, even after my mother left to chase after her romantic ideals. She seems to be settled in with husband number four in Savannah, at least for now. I tell him how Kate and I were paired randomly as freshmen at WSU-V, and we've been living together ever since.

Christian tells me about growing up in Bellevue. He was adopted at age four, and since then has led the stereotypical upper-middle class lifestyle. His father is a lawyer and his mother is a doctor. He has two siblings, Elliot and Mia, who were also adopted.

His father, Carrick, instilled a love of the outdoors in his children. "I was thinking of taking off for a few days," he says. "Maybe hike some of the Pacific Crest Trail. It's my happy place."

I smile. "That sounds amazing."

"So what does your family think about... you know..."

I sigh. "My mom thinks I should have… ended it. She thinks I need to be young and single, focus on my career, find romance. She was the same age as me - twenty-one - when she got pregnant. She married my dad, but I'm not sure that's what she really wanted. Anyway, he was in the service and was killed in a training accident right after I was born. We were living at Fort Lewis, and my father's friend - Ray - took over caring for us. She married him too, but I'm not sure she ever loved him. And I can't help but wonder if… if she had to do it over again…" I shrug. I can't go there.

"And your step-father?"

"Ray's… I don't know. Disappointed? I mean, he's pissed at the situation, but not at me. He's supportive of whatever I decide."

"Which is?"

I shrug, "I haven't decided yet."

"And the father? Was he at college with you?"

"No, he worked at SIP. He was another intern."

"Was?"

"Jack had been there for almost a year already, and I guess he was… working his way through the female staff? And videotaping them… I mean, us." I blush. "Anyway, the day of the party? After I broke up with him, I turned him in."

"Wow, that took guts. So what happened to him?"

"His daddy is well-connected, and he bailed him out. They wanted to pay me off, keep me quiet. But in the end, I decided that he'd just keep hurting more women."

"So is he in jail?"

"No, worse. He's with about twenty other guys on one of daddy's fishing boats in Alaska. I think he'll be there awhile…" I laugh. "What about you? I'm sure you've had your share of girlfriends."

He sobers. "I haven't really done the girlfriend thing. My 'friend' who gave me the seed money? We were… together until recently. She was older and… more experienced. When we ended things, she wanted to set me up with some acquaintances of hers. And I've been holding back. I think I was waiting for something… different."

"So you were together, but she wasn't your girlfriend?"

"No. I had a rough start in life. Before I was adopted? And she gave me a… physical outlet."

Hmm… okay. I'm confused, but I can tell he's done talking. For now. He's staring off into the water, deep in his past.

"Okay," I say, breaking the spell. "Let's walk back."

We're quiet again on the walk back. I can't believe we said all that to each other! I don't even want to know what he's thinking. He probably can't wait to get back to his car.

When we get to the porch, I say, "Well thanks for the... walk." He's not budging. _Okay, go to your car now.  
_  
He's not leaving, he's leaning in. _Oh shit._ He cups the back of my neck with his hand, then skims his fingers along my jaw. I want to bolt. Again.

He gauges my expression, the tension in my body. "Don't run," he whispers.

I let out the breath I'm holding, turn and unlock the door, open it. "You coming or going?" I ask.

He just grins - a gorgeous ear-splitting smile - and follows me inside. _Oh my. This is going to be interesting._

I go use the bathroom, offer to make us sandwiches, tell him to help himself to the leftover beers.

It's about 1:30 when we settle in at the dining room table with our turkey sandwiches. He's looking around the room, at our bookshelves and knick-knacks. Then his eyes settle in one spot and he smiles. I turn and look. _Scrabble.  
_  
"You play?" He asks.

"Christian, I don't 'play' _Scrabble_. I take it very seriously." Yep, that's a threat... and an invitation.

He smiles again, gets up and retrieves the game. We play and he's... not bad. He's actually a decent player. But, in the end, I whip him. Badly. I finish him off when I get the 'J' on the double letter, triple word score. I sit back and grin. " _2013 Northwest Teen Scrabble Champion,_ " I boast.

"Impressive," He says. Then he gets up, comes and leans over me. He pauses for just a moment before I am scooped up and placed on his lap, facing him.

This time, he's not taking any of my shit. He grabs my wrists with one hand, restraining me. And the other hand grips my chin, pulls me in. And I give up. _Right or wrong, I'm only human._ And I melt - we melt - joining together until we are just lips and limbs and sensation... I can feel my belly pressing against him, and I know he must feel it too. But mostly what I feel is... electricity. It snaps between us and the sparks fly.

I can feel him stir and harden beneath me. Ah! I flex my hips and grind against him. Mmmm…. it feels so… Abruptly he grasps my hips, sits up, slides me off his lap. He looks a little... guilty. He clears his throat. "What are you doing to me? I'm not sure I should be... Is this even okay?"

I sit in the chair next to him, chin on my hands. "I could say the same. But I don't know. I feel like I should tell you to go, save yourself. But…"

"But what?"

I shrug. "But I don't want to."

We just sit for a minute. "It's quiet," he says. "Don't you have roommates?"

"Yes, well one less as of today. Now it's just me and Kate. And she left this morning on a trip to Barbados with her family." Kate _would_ get to take a vacation after only working for six weeks. But her father is an entertainment industry mogul, and he has connections.

"So you're staying here all alone."

I shrug. "Yep, until next Sunday."

He smiles again. And this time it's mischievous... his eyes are twinkling. _Yep, we are all alone here. No one to know, no one to judge. Oh boy.  
_  
It's now three o'clock. Oh, that turkey sandwich is making me sleepy. I could take a nap… with Christian. NO. "Want to watch a movie?" I ask. I know we both like foreign films, and I have a decent collection. _Okay, I have an excellent collection._ I have over three hundred foreign books and films culled from library sales and used bookstores over the years.

I lead him over to the cabinet in the living room, open it, and hear his sharp intake of breath. "Oh wow... you have... and..." He skims his finger along the titles, finally pulling out one of my favorites. It's the original Italian version of _Il Postino: The Postman._

I grin and pop it in and we settle into the leather couch. Kate's mom redecorates every couple of years, so we always have really nice cast-offs. It's cool in here, the air-conditioner blasting away, so I grab a blanket, relieved to cover myself. I just want to look - and feel - normal for awhile.

We sit side by side, watching, but I know he's planning his next move. And the anticipation is making my body hum. _Oh he knows it. It's rolling off me in waves._

Finally he yawns dramatically and stretches, bringing one arm down around my shoulders.

I giggle. "Nice move... very subtle." I look up at him and his eyes are twinkling, playful. _Okay, I'll play._ "You wanna make out?" I ask.

He chuckles. "What are we, fifteen?"

I shrug. "Whatever. If you don't want to…"

He rolls his eyes, but grins and leans in, again grabbing my wrists in one hand. We kiss and it's wet and sloppy, lots of tongue. When he finally pulls back, my lips are tingling. I lick them, tasting the tang of him in my mouth.

"First base," he whispers, his eyes darkening.

He unzips my hoodie and slides one hand under my tank top, keeping to the side and skimming up my ribs. His fingers slide along my skin, and I can feel goosebumps rise up in their path. I can't move... can't breathe... I can just feel... And his hand reaches my bra, skims across, his thumb on my nipple.

"Ah!" I say, and my hips flex automatically, my insides clench, and desire pools deep in my belly. It radiates all the way down _there_. "Mmm..."

He pulls the fabric of my bra down, traces my areola, and tugs at my nipple. Then he moves to the other side, repeats the process. I can feel his erection at my hip, digging in, eager for more. _Oh, for some reason that I cannot fathom, this beautiful man wants me. Me! Plain old skinny, knocked-up me. And I want him too._

I know he wants to do more, probably with his mouth, but I know he won't. He won't undress me, cross that line. _Not yet anyway..._ Instead, he removes his hand, kisses me again, and pulls back. "Second base." And we grin.

We snuggle in and watch the rest of the movie. I guess he's done running the bases. _For now._

"Let's order some dinner," he says as the credits roll.

 _Okay, so he's not leaving anytime soon._ "Um, Okay," I say.

We order Chinese - way too much Chinese - and he insists on paying for it all. We gorge on spicy Kung Pao chicken, dumplings, fried rice with shrimp. Then we read each other's fortunes, adding 'in bed' to the end of each one, and laugh hysterically.

After dinner, he raids the stash of beer. And we talk and laugh and talk some more. I gather up the take-out containers and put them in the kitchen trash, check the time. Ten-thirty. _Is he going to stay or go? The rational part of me thinks he should GO. The rest of me? It says definitely NOT.  
_  
He comes in, bringing the rest of the trash. "It's getting late," he says softly.

"Yep," I say, "it's almost my bedtime."

 _Please say you'd better go..._

 _Please say you don't want to go.  
_  
"Do you want me to go?"

"No." _Anastasia Steele! Fuck.  
_  
 _Hmm, now what?_ "Want to sit outside? In the back?"

He grabs another beer, and I fix myself a glass of ice water. We settle into a pair of Adirondack chairs on the tiny patio. The heat from the day is still radiating off the concrete slab and the warmth presses in around us. It feels cozy. And safe.

I lay my head back, shut my eyes. We just sit quietly, listening to the city around us. He reaches out after a bit, takes my hand.

"Mmm," I sigh, opening my eyes and turning to look at him.

"Still awake?"

I stifle a yawn. "Yes."

"Can I tell you something?"

"I've never slept with a woman before."

What? He can't be serious. "What about…"

He interrupts, shaking his head. "We didn't sleep together. We just fucked. Hard."

 _Ohh._

"I told you that I had a rough start in life, and I couldn't bear to be touched. I still can't… not on my chest or back. And I don't like to take off my shirt. For anyone."

He considers my expression and I try to remain impassive, let him finish.

"So this is new… and a little scary. So maybe we can - you know - respect each other's boundaries? Only do what we're comfortable with?"

I nod. Yep, I definitely have my own limitations. _And I should stick to them._ This can only go so far… "Yeah I think that we shouldn't - you know - because of…" and I gesture to my belly. "And also, Jack was my - um - first? And, not that I have anything to compare it to, but…" I wrinkle my nose, "it was very quick and… not great. You know, _coitus interruptus_?"

Now it's his turn to nod. "We don't have to do anything we don't want to do. You know that, right?"

I look at him. "I'd never do anything I didn't want to do."

We stand and make our way through the house. I turn off the lights, check the locks.

And then I lead him upstairs to my room. It's all white wicker furniture, with a blue and white quilt. It's girly and peaceful... _or it was_. He looms large in my space, checking out my walls of books, my framed photos. There's no air conditioning up here, and it's warm. I reach up and pull the cord to turn on my ceiling fan.

I grab a black camisole and sleep shorts. "Be right back," I say and head into my en-suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. _Shit, am I doing this? Okay, we'll just sleep... clothes stay on. Right?  
_  
I use the bathroom, change quickly, brush my teeth. While he uses the bathroom, I get into bed. I stretch my back out, try to relax. But my breathing is quick, my heart hammering in my chest.

He comes back in, just in his t-shirt and boxer briefs. _Oh God_ … He slides in beside me. I turn so he can spoon me, and I snuggle in. "Just breathe, Ana," he whispers.

I can smell mint on his breath. _Wait a minute…_ "Did you brush your teeth?"

I can feel him chuckle against my back. "I used your toothbrush," he says. "Now sleep."

And I do. Wrapped in his arms, with the day's events swirling through my head, I do.

I wake to a bright Seattle morning, with the sunshine streaming in. And I'm warm. I'm really warm. This blanket is so heavy… and, oh, memories of yesterday come rushing in. It's not a blanket, it's Christian. Christian Grey is in my bed. He's in my bed and _on_ _me_. One arm is under my neck, the other across my chest. His legs are entwined with mine and they're heavy. And sweaty. We are one big, sweaty tangle of limbs.

I don't want to wake him, but the heat is unbearable and I have to pee. Badly. I try to shift just a little. Ugh, he's so heavy… and I feel him stretch against me. Mmm… well one part of him is definitely awake. I can feel _it_ pushing into my backside as he moves.

He moves his hand from my chest to my hair, smoothing it back from my damp forehead. "Good morning, beautiful," he says softly. Then, "Jeez, Ana, you're burning up. Are you okay?"

"Yes, just… really warm. And I need to pee. Can you… please?"

He pulls away from me, disentangling himself. And I quickly scoot off the bed and into the bathroom. After relieving myself, I check out my reflection. I am flushed and sweaty, and my hair is definitely not having a good morning. I scoop it up into a ponytail, then splash my face and neck with cool water. _Better._

I head back into the bedroom and there he is. All tousel-haired and yummy, propped up against my iron headboard. I crawl up onto the bed and straddle his legs. "Talk about 'good morning beautiful,'" I say, then lean forward. He tenses and I stop, remembering that he doesn't like to be touched on the chest. I give a little nod, and grip the iron bars on either side of his head. He smiles, and I lean in for my kiss. This time, it's soft and sweet and slow as we explore each other. Something in me clicks and turns over. I'm falling for him. Hard. _Oh, what have I done?_

...

In the end, Christian doesn't go on his hike. He goes home to get a few things, then spends the rest of the Labor Day weekend with me. We cook together, watch more foreign films, lie in the hammock, and just have a relaxing and lazy weekend. On Monday morning, we get up early to beat the heat, and drive up to Snoqualomie Pass, taking Christian's sleek Audi S5 convertible. After I slide into the low car, he hands me pair of Ray-Bans and a Mariners baseball cap. _Yes!_

Christian takes the Denny Creek exit off of I-90 and parks at the Franklin Falls trailhead. "Oh!" I say, "I've been here with Ray, but it's been years."

"It's one of my favorites," he says. "It's a good hike for a hot day." He grabs his day pack and we start up the trail. It's steep, with some switchbacks, as it winds up Snoqualomie Mountain. I have to stop and catch my breath a few times, but I do okay. Christian patiently waits for me, giving me time to drink some water and rest. By the time we reach the outcropping with the falls, the temperature is over ninety degrees. Christian takes my hand and leads me across the mossy boulders to the little ledge behind the falls. The mist from the rushing water feels amazing and cools us right off.

I reach out, cupping water in my hands, and splash it on my face. When I look up again, Christian's watching me, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything, just keeps eyeing me.

What? I look down and my white t-shirt is now almost completely see-through. Ohh… and it's clinging to me. My red lacy bra, my now-chilled nipples… everything. "Oh!" I squeal, wrapping my arms around myself. "Maybe white wasn't the best choice today."

"Oh, I think it was," he growls, and then pulls me in, kissing me long and hard. He keeps one hand on my chin, but the other travels down… over my bra, across my nipple, tracing my ribcage down my side. He rests his hand on my hip, then stops and pulls back, looks at me.

"It's okay," I whisper.

Very slowly, he brings his hand forward and lightly skims it across my belly. Then he cups it with his hand. "It's so firm," he whispers. "Mmm… and so sexy."

I pull him in for another kiss. "Okay," I say, "You need to feed me now."

We've packed a blanket and a picnic in Christian's day pack, and we settle on the blanket in the meadow and dig in. Chicken salad on croissants, sweet red grapes, fudgy brownies with walnuts, and sparkling water. Oh, I'm famished and it's all delicious. After polishing off every bit of food, we lie back and stretch out, letting our clothes dry in the sun.

I put my arm over my eyes to block out the sun, and I'm suddenly so sleepy. The hike, the food, the breeze, the sunshine…. I'm starting to drift when he asks, "So can you feel it?"

Feel what? He's not even touching me. Ohh… "A little, just in the last week or so. And you know what it feels like? Gas bubbles." I uncover my eyes and look over at him.

He's smirking, of course. But then he sobers, sits up. "So what do you think you're going to do? You know, after?"

I sit up too, my knees touching his. "I don't know." I say softly. "Obviously I didn't go for option A. Option B… adoption? Maybe that's the best. For everyone involved. But I don't know if I'm brave enough." Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"And option C?"

"I raise it as a twenty-two year old single mother. So how do I choose? My child or my youth?" I can feel a tear escape and slide down my cheek.

Christian pulls me in, wipes away my tear with his thumb. He lies back down, pulling me with him, and I rest my head on his chest. "I'm not even going to begin to tell you what to do," he says softly. "But I want to be with you… whatever you decide. Now sleep, baby."

And I drift,, feeling Christian's breathing and heartbeat, wishing for the hundredth time that he was the father instead of Jack. And I think I feel, more than hear, Christian whisper, "I wish it was mine."

That evening, we grill out on the patio and - like the first two nights - we head up to my bedroom. The upstairs is stifling, the temperature has been building on itself over the past few days. I change into a clean camisole and panties, but they stick to me immediately. Ugh, I am not going to be able to sleep. I look over at Christian, and his gray t-shirt is sweat-stained. Beads of sweat are breaking out on his brow. _Is he thinking what I'm thinking?_ "We could sleep downstairs on the couch… where it's cooler? Or…"

"Or?" He quirks an eyebrow, daring me to finish.

I take a deep breath. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

He nods, almost imperceptibly, but it's enough. And we are peeling off our sweaty clothing, until we are both completely naked. I can't help but soak in the sight of him. God, he's beautiful. His chest is broad and toned, with just a smattering of golden chest hair. And then there's his happy trail that starts just below his six-pack and leads down to his… I blush and look up, meet his eyes.

"You're gorgeous," he says softly. "I could gaze at you all night. Come, get into bed."

I lie down on my back, naked and exposed to him. He slides in next to me, on his side, propped up on one elbow.

He traces one nipple with his fingers, then his tongue. Ah! My hips arch and I can feel my groin starting to swell and pulse with desire. _Ohh…_ He repeats his affections on the other side, inhaling sharply through his teeth as he thrusts against my hip.

I turn my head into his chest, and I can see several round marks. _Are they scars? I can't…_ He catches me looking, and stiffens, then rolls me over so I'm facing away from him. He settles back against me, and his chest hair tickles my back. And down below… I can feel the satiny ridge of his erection pressing against my backside. And he starts to slide it up and down, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.

"Mmmm..." I moan. And I push back against him, the friction building between us. _Oh, I am starting to climb…_ And then his hand is between my thighs, separating my legs... reaching between them, in _there_.

"Okay?" He asks.

"Yes," I say. _Oh, don't stop now._ His finger finds my opening and he thrusts it in, begins to circle. "Mmmm..."

"Oh Ana, you're sopping wet." He murmurs, then "third base." And I giggle. I know he is grinning. He starts to pull back, breaking the contact between us.

 _No, no, no… where is he going?_ "I don't want you to stop," I pant.

"You said before that you didn't want to…"

"That was before. Please don't stop," I beg.

He pauses, considering for a heartbeat - two - then settles back against me.

"Do you want me to get a condom?" He whispers.

Hmm... "No."

And then I feel him position himself. I am so slick and wet... and with a quick thrust, he's in. "Ohhh..." I say.

"Oh baby... you feel so..." He says, and he begins to move... slowly at first, then picking up the pace. "Oh. You. Are. So. Sweet. You. Feel. So. Good." He says with each thrust. He grips my hip with his hand, and I push back... riding him, building quickly, and I take what I need. I take what Jack didn't give me... _Ohh!_ I explode, falling in pieces, down and around us. He thrusts forcefully - twice more - before grunting deep in his throat... coming inside me.

And then we melt, back onto the bed, our breathing and heartbeats in sync. "Home run," he whispers.

 _Holy... that was amazing. Oh, this has been the hottest night of my life._

...

And so Christian stayed with me all week, and we settled into a domestic routine. We both went to work during the day, and spent the evenings and nights together. Slowly, signs of him in my life began to appear. His dress shoes by the door, his laptop on the coffee table, his toothbrush in my bathroom, his tie around my headboard. Okay, well the tie was intentional. _Oh that tie…_ and I rub my wrists just thinking about it.

Most evenings, we cooked together and then curled up on the couch. He worked on his laptop, and I read through a manuscript or two. One evening, we walked to a little fish shack on the beach, feasting on vinegar-soaked fish 'n chips, trying not to burn our mouths and fingers.

As far as the nights, we christened just about every surface in the little bungalow. The kitchen island, where we could go at it missionary-style without holding back, was hands-down our favorite.

 _...  
_

Too soon, it's Sunday evening and almost time for Kate to get back from Barbados. Christian leaves around four o'clock, kissing me warmly and promising me that we'll figure it out. I check the house for evidence of him, then change into my comfiest sweats and crash out on the couch.

A couple of hours later, Kate breezes in - all tan and glowing... bubbling on about booze and coral and white sandy beaches. She had a close encounter with a jellyfish, and she shrieks as she tells me about it, her arms flailing wildly.

Kate's phone starts pinging with all sorts of backlogged messages. It was out of service in Barbados. She starts reading some of them, giving me a summary as she goes. She really is a social butterfly. "Oh here's one from someone I met at the beach party earlier this summer? He was _so cute_ so I gave him my digits… Anyway he was with someone at the time… but they just broke up… Can't get me off his mind…" She giggles and blushes. _Kate's actually blushing! Oh, she must have really liked him too._

We order pizza and eat it straight out of the box, watching crap TV and laughing hysterically.

Finally around 10:00, I uncurl from my nest on the couch, standing to stretch out my aching back. "Okay," I say, "your vacation is officially _over_ … and we both have to work tomorrow."

Kate looks up, checking me out. "Wow, you look even more…"

I cut her off. "I know, Kate." I roll my eyes. _Jeez, she has no filter. But I love her for it.  
_  
"How do you feel? And how's your job? I feel bad about leaving you here alone. What did you do all week?"

"I'm okay… and it's good. My week was fine… I mostly just hung around. You know."

She knows. She is used to me being a hermit, my head in a book.

Over the next couple days, Christian and I text back and forth. It's fun and flirty - and maybe a little naughty - but it's not the same. It feels like my other half is missing. After work on Wednesday, I stop at the store and get ingredients for chicken fajitas - one of my specialties. I am the cook in the house, so I usually make dinner on my nights. Kate is an expert at ordering take-out.

I get home and start on dinner while Kate looks on, glass of wine in hand. Her phone pings with an incoming text message.

"Ooh!" She says, "It's _him_ again. Do you care if he comes over tonight?"

"Sure," I say, "I got plenty of groceries… Which guy again? Someone from work?" And I take a long drink of my lemonade.

"No, he's in construction I think. His name is Elliot-something…" She shrugs, typing a response. Her phone pings again. "He says his brother, Christian, wants to come along. Is that okay?"

And I choke. I spew my lemonade into the sink, coughing and trying to catch my breath.

"Ana! God, are you okay?"

"Mmm-hmm." I say, wiping my mouth and trying to act casual.

"What?" She says.

 _Shit. Here we go..._

"Do you know him?" And she stares at me, her eyes narrowing to a steely glint.

"Um," I say, returning to slice up the peppers, keeping my voice casual, "he spent the week with me."

I look back up, and her face is blank while she processes this. "Wait. When? Just now? While I was gone?"

"Umm-hmm."

"Ana! What. The. Fuck. You said you just hung around..."

"I did! Just not... alone." And then I spill it. The party... meeting up with him again... hanging out. Okay, so I don't give her ALL the details. "We're friends. He's _nice_."

" _Nice_? Huh." She smiles - an evil grin - and texts Elliot back. _Oh, she wants Christian to come over._

About twenty minutes later, the boys arrive, bringing a case of beer and a whole lot of testosterone into our little house.

Oh, Elliot is cute… boyishly handsome, tall, and well-built. _Hmm, the Grey brothers._ I know they're both adopted, so that makes it even more incredible. Right away, I can tell that Elliot is more playful and openly affectionate. He scoops Kate up, swings her around, and then dips her low to the floor. Setting her back on her feet, he gives her a playful smooch on the lips.

While this is happening, Christian is looking right at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He points at himself, then me, then puts his finger to his lips.

 _Oh, okay, so this is how we're going to play it, Mr. Grey? I'm IN._

"... and this is Ana," Kate bubbles, looking from me to Elliot to Christian.

"Ana," says Elliot, striding over to shake my hand. "Kate's told me so much about you…" His eyes widen slightly as he takes me in.

I blush and shake his hand. "Hello, Elliot." _Yeah, she didn't tell you everything, did she? This night is going to be full of surprises…_

"And this is my baby brother, Christian," he says, and Kate and I both shake Christian's hand. His hand grasps mine firmly, lingering for just a moment.

"Well," I announce. "Dinner's just about ready. If you can all give me a hand setting it out?"

I direct them in putting out the tortillas in their warmer, the shredded cheese, sour cream, and homemade guacamole, plates and silverware. Finally, I bring over the pan of sizzling chicken, peppers, and onions.

We all shuffle around each other, arranging the ingredients and filling our plates. When I lean over to pull the guacamole out of the fridge, I feel Christian walk by and skim his fingers across my ass. And while he's filling his plate, I reach across him, rubbing my hand down the length of his forearm. "Excuse me," I say innocently.

We sit down at the dining room table, Elliot at the head with Kate to his right. Christian sits to Elliot's left, with me beside him.

Elliot raises his bottle of Dos Equis in a toast. "To new friends," he says. Christian and Kate raise their bottles, and they all look at me.

I sigh and roll my eyes, raising my glass of ice water. "And you all suck," I say, laughing. After a second's pause, they join me, and we clink together to seal the deal.

Elliot and Kate are both in high spirits, and they carry the dinner conversation. I watch them and decide that they do make an adorable couple. They're both blonde and good-looking, loud and extroverted. They both grew up in privileged families, but are hard workers. Elliot tells stories about some of his crazy customers in the construction business.

While Elliot's going on about a customer who changed his mind about the shape of his roofline _three times_ , I feel Christian put his hand on my knee. He squeezes it firmly, then slides his fingers to the inside of my thigh. Then slowly, his expression of humored attention never changing, he begins to work his fingers up…

My reflexes kick in and I gasp, shutting my thighs on his hand.

Elliot stops mid-sentence and glares at Christian. "Dude, what the fuck are you two playing at?"

Christian looks at me, I look at him, and we burst out laughing. "Gotcha!" He says, and then points at Elliot. "And you think _you're_ the king of practical jokes."

But Elliot isn't laughing. "Did you… I mean, is that your…" he stutters. "I mean, I thought you were GAY!"

 _Oh! Oh, shit. We did not think this all the way through._ And Christian is _definitely_ not gay.

Christian sobers quickly and raises both hands in a plea for innocence. "Keep your pants on, Elliot." He says. "First of all, no I am not gay. And we met at the party too. And that was only _two months_ ago. We're friends. Got it?"

Elliot looks at me and I nod. _It's true, right? We're friends. I mean, sort of…_

We clear the food and dishes away and bring out a deck of cards. After some serious debating, we decide to play poker. Being the only truly sober one in the room, I clean up, winning the $26 pot.

"Okay, okay," Elliot finally jokes. "She's wiping me out here. But seriously, I have to be on the site at five o'clock tomorrow morning. Ready, bro?"

Christian turns and looks at me.

I shrug. "I don't know, Grey, are you coming or going?"

We grin and head upstairs, leaving the two of them gaping in our wake. And it's priceless.

By the time we reach my room, we're really going at it. Touching, groping, yanking off our clothes.

"That was fun," he growls. "But it's been a _long_ three days. And right now I want to fuck you into the middle of next week."

 _Oh my. It's gonna be another hot summer night._


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

 _ **Another Bite of Forbidden Fruit**_

APOV

By the time I returned to work after Labor Day, it had been three months since _The Jack Incident_ ripped through SIP, wreaking havoc and creating friction among the staff. The week after Jack was fired, the editor that I was working under resigned. Plus, there were rumors that SIP was going to be sold, and everyone was frazzled and on-edge. There was a firing and hiring freeze in place for the time being, which left us safe for now, but understaffed. Jack's desk and the editor's desk behind mine would remain empty until after the sale went through. And although no one would openly blame me for _The Jack Incident,_ I knew that there was underlying resentment toward me for the increased workload.

But as I knew they would, the huffs of resentment turned into curious glances at my waistline. Anyone with half a brain could do the math. Everyone knew about Jack's reputation and that I had pressed charges. They knew that he had been fired and banished to Alaska. And they knew that I didn't want to talk about it.

The only two exceptions to this were Hannah, another editor's assistant, and Claire from reception. From my first week at SIP, they had welcomed me into their little clique. We were the only ones at the publishing company in our early twenties, so we were friends by default. We didn't socialize in the evenings or on weekends, but we'd go to lunch two or three times a week. We'd go to the little cafe on the corner, and giggle about the latest office gossip over our sandwiches and sodas.

I told them my side of the story about what happened with Jack. I told them how my editor always stood just a little too close and that his breath smelled like tobacco and fish. And, after they caught me hurling my guts up in the bathroom three days in a row, I told them I was pregnant.

Claire was, by far, the most adventurous of the three of us. She would fill us in on her weekend's events, which usually included an _epic_ party or two. Claire's appearance was as colorful as her lifestyle, her hair and clothing an ever-changing rainbow of colors. Hannah had a steady boyfriend, and was still taking some night classes, so her weekends were usually a bit tamer.

On the Friday following Labor Day, we go to the cafe for lunch and I am especially ravenous, giving my complete attention to my turkey BLT. Claire is going on about a _hot_ new bar and dance club that's opening this weekend. I catch the end of her sentence "... and you two should totally come!" And it's followed by an awkward silence.

I finished chewing and looked up to see Claire's cheeks burning and Hannah looking carefully at anything but me. Claire had never invited us along before, and I'm sure it just slipped out in her excitement.

"I'm sorry, Ana," Claire stammered, "I wasn't thinking."

I waved off her apology and said, "Don't worry about it. But you two should definitely check it out. I've never been that into the club scene…" I shrug. "Which is a good thing, I guess."

I am just about to take another bite of my sandwich when I see Hannah stiffen. She elbows Claire, whose eyes widen. They're both facing toward the door and the counter, while my view is of the rest of the seating area. "Is that… _him_?"

I roll my eyes. Hannah and Claire share a guilty pleasure of following online gossip columns. They're always having one 'sighting' or another, which usually turn out to be false alarms. Celebrities aren't likely to visit our coffee shop at 12:30 on a Friday afternoon.

This fact doesn't seem to deter these two, though, as they continue to look toward the counter and whisper back and forth. I manage to catch "... I mean, he _does_ live here in Seattle" before Claire squeals, "It _is_ him… it's freaking _Christian Grey_!"

 _Oh shit_ …Before I can stop myself, I turn and see - a very familiar pair of gray eyes meeting mine. He's dressed in one of his gorgeous, sexy-as-hell, ridiculously expensive suits. This one is dark a dark grey, three-piece that he's wearing with a crisp white shirt and silver tie. Yum. _Yep, it's definitely him. What is he doing here? His office is way over on the other side of downtown._

"Be cool, ladies," I admonish, even though my heart is practically beating out of my chest.

"Ooh, even Ana's affected by him," Claire teases. "He's so… _hot_. He's been all over the gossip columns. His company is up and coming, and it's supposed to gross in the millions this year."

"God… I hope he's single," sighs Claire. Then she makes a face and leans forward, whispering.

"I heard he's gay," says Hannah.

I nearly choke on my mineral water. Not her too! Then I see Claire's eyes widen again as she sits back up. At the same time, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. A solid, warm… very _Christian_ hand accompanied by a whiff of his body wash. My whole body tingles in response to his presence as I watch my friends' reactions.

Both of their jaws have practically hit the floor before he can even say, "Hey baby."

Christian leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek, then pulls back and gives me a panty-dropping smile. Unlike on the weekends, he's close-shaven today and his cheek is smooth as it brushes against mine. "Fancy seeing you here," he croons, and his voice is tinged with humor.

"Hey yourself…" I say. " _My_ office is just up the block. _Yours_ is way on the other side of downtown. What are you doing here, Christian?"

"I had a meeting in the area. Thought I'd pop in here for a quick bite." His voice is carefully casual, and his eyes are not quite meeting mine.

Before I can question him further, the sound of a throat clearing pops me out of my Christian-and-Ana bubble. _Shit… my friends!_ As usual, his presence has made the rest of the world just drop away.

I pull my gaze from his and turn to look at Hannah and Claire. They've managed to close their mouths, at least. "I'm sorry… Christian, these are my friends and co-workers, Hannah and Claire."

Christian reaches across the table and shakes their hands, greeting them. "Nice to meet you. I'm Christian Grey, Ana's… _boyfriend_."

 _Boyfriend_ … And there it is. He put a label on it right here in this cafe. And it sounds so natural rolling off his tongue. So _good_.

A nudge from Christian snaps me back to attention again. "Yes, my _boyfriend_ , Christian Grey," I say. It's official. This incredibly well-dressed, successful, good-smelling, sexy-as-hell man is my boyfriend. _So eat your hearts out, girls._ And I can't help the grin that steals across my face.

 **xoxox**

Over the next few weeks, Christian and Elliot slip seamlessly into our lives. It's as if there's always been a pair of muddy work boots by the back door and a football game on our TV. Both of the Grey men work long hours during the week, building their businesses. But on the weekends, they're usually found lounging on our couch or invading our refrigerator.

Sometimes the four of us spend our days together… hiking some of the local trails, or sailing on Christian's prototype wooden sailboat. They introduce us to all of their favorite, local hole-in-the wall restaurants. Usually they involve an outdoor deck and a selection of obscure micro-brews.

The weather cools, and I'm able to mostly hide my ever-growing waistline under Christian's hoodies and my trusty, dark green raincoat. I just want to be a normal girl out with my best friend and our new _boyfriends_.

Since that day at the waterfall, we haven't really talked about the baby or the cloud of impending decisions that's hanging over my head. Christian knows that I need time to think, to figure out what's right for me and for this new little life. Kate's giving me some space as well, and the whole thing is just - awkward - when it comes to Elliot. Sometimes I catch him looking at me, dropping his gaze quickly in embarrassment. I get it… Christian is his brother and he knows that we're in a tough situation. I can practically see the thoughts spinning through that head of his. _What exactly are they doing and is it okay? Who's the father, anyway, if it's not my brother's? What will our parents think of this? Our little sister?_

One Friday night, we all settle in together to watch a movie. Kate steps over Elliot's legs to take her place on their side of our big, L-shaped couch. "Ugh, Elliot… there's mud all up the legs of your jeans," she complains. "Take off those dirty clothes so I can wash them. _Now_."

Elliot gapes up at her. "You want me to take my clothes off in front of your roommate?"

I giggle and snuggle in closer to my clean-smelling, non-muddy, white collar mogul. We're already in t-shirts and sweatpants, wrapped up in my favorite, oversized fleece blanket. "Get on with it, Lelliot," Christian says. "You know she's not giving in or touching your sorry ass in those nasty pants."

"Fine," says Elliot, and standing up, he strips off his jeans and t-shirt, and is standing in our living room in just his boxer briefs. _Oh my… yes, the Grey brothers have been blessed._ Elliot's body is longer and leaner than Christian's, but incredibly toned. There is not an ounce on extra fat on him. The only thing detracting from his overall look is his serious case of farmer tan. His face, neck, and lower arms are a deep, golden brown while his chest, upper arms, and legs are starkly pale in contrast.

I giggle again. "Nice farmer's tan, Elliot."

Christian slaps a hand over my eyes, making me giggle even harder and squirm against him. "Lelliot go put some clothes on… You're traumatizing this poor girl."

I hear some scuffling around, Kate and Elliot laughing, and the washing machine start up. Christian still hasn't taken his hand off my eyes. "Are you going to let me see anytime soon?" I complain, and buck back against him. But it's useless - he has his other hand wrapped around my chest like a vice.

"I rather like you like this," he growls in my ear. "You can struggle all you want, sweetheart."

I push back against him again, and I can feel that he really does like me like this. He likes it a lot, and the evidence is growing by the second.

"Mmm…" I groan, as a surge of desire coarse through me and my heart rate and breathing spike. _Holy shit…_

"Shh…" he whispers, "They're coming back."

I hear Kate and Elliot come back in the room and settle in on the couch, all the while bantering about Elliot's smelly laundry. Evidently he brought a whole week's worth in his duffel bag. "... but you're folding all of it. I'm not your maid or your mother," Kate exclaims.

"Ok you prude, you can uncover her eyes now," says Elliot.

Christian removes his hand and I blink, as much to clear my head as my vision. Not being able to see made that little play session much more… _intense_. I know my face is flushed and I am practically panting.

Kate peers over at me from under the blanket that's now covering her and Elliot. "Ana, are you okay? Your face is all red."

"I'm fine," I squeak, as I feel Christians now-free hand running along the elastic at the back of my sweatpants. "It's just a little warm in here." And I pull the blanket down a little in the front to make my statement believable. "Just start the movie, okay?"

We all watch the movie - a romantic comedy - for a while, and Christian does nothing more than play with the waistband of my sweats and scratch my back. He knows that I love it when he traces his fingernails up and down my spine.

I see Kate and Elliot's blanket shift and Kate's sitting up, struggling with something under the blanket. After a minute, she sits up in triumph, tossing her sweatpants to the floor. Oh my… _Kate!_ Now she's only in a t-shirt and underwear. And - knowing Kate - there's not much to her panties. She straddles Elliot and takes his mouth with hers. Those two are lip-locked and I don't see them coming up for air anytime soon. The blanket is still covering them, but I can see quite a bit of - movement - as Kate grinds away on Elliot's lap.

I groan and murmur, "Jeez, get a room."

I can feel Christian chuckle as his hand works it's way further down the back of my sweatpants, now sliding across my butt. "Cotton panties," he whispers. "You're such a good little girl… I almost hate to…" But he does it anyway - he pulls my panties down in one swift movement, baring my ass to him. "So plump and sweet. I just want to take a bite."

"So why don't you?" I sass.

He growls and pulls my t-shirt off my shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh at the base of my neck instead.

This makes me squirm again, and this time I am rewarded with his cotton-covered erection pressing into my bare backside. Hey no fair… I reach around behind me, intent on freeing him, but it's awkward and he grabs my wrist. "Not so fast," he growls. "If you do that, it's going to be over quicker than we can blink. I want to make this last, baby. There's at least an hour of this movie left." _Hmm, and hour left of clandestine touching and... ahh! Okay, bring it on._

He glimpses over to Kate and Elliot, but they're not paying attention to us or the movie. Christian slides his hand back up and out of my sweatpants, leaving me once again covered and frustrated. He works just his fingertips along the elastic, around my hip bone, to the front, before diving in again with his whole hand. This time he palms me through my now-damp panties.

"Ohh…" I gasp, flexing my hips.

"Shh…" he warns, his voice a whisper in my ear. "Just relax into me. Lie still. Let me make you feel good, baby."

I let out the breath I took in with my gasp, and nod, letting myself settle against him. Once I am completely still and relaxed, he moves his hand back up to the elastic of my panties, intent on diving in from the top. But he didn't account for the fact that there's very little room down there, and that he has some competition in gaining access. The heel of his hand pushes up against the bottom of my belly as he starts to slide his fingers inside my panties, and it's met with a very definite nudge.

Christian freezes, his hand still pressed up against me, and the nudge comes again, even more insistent. "Is that… is that the -?" He asks, and his voice sounds… awed? Shocked?

"Yes," I whisper, "and none too happy about your invading fingers, I don't think." And with this, we both start to chuckle, and the chuckles turn into full-blown belly laughs.

"What's so funny over there?" Kate demands, finally coming up for air.

"Nothing!" Christian and I call out in unison, as we snuggle deeper under our blanket. My wiggling and laughing are stopped abruptly as Christian's fingers find an alternate route - in through the side of the crotch of my panties - and shoves a finger deep inside… _there_. Ah!

"Sorry, little one... " Christian croons softly, "but you've had your mommy to yourself all week. Now it's my turn with her."

He's talking to the baby… _Holy shit_. And he called me 'mommy'... This is not a word that I have even voiced to myself, not wanting to take that leap when I feel so undecided. Will I be this baby's mommy? I don't know… so how can Christian be so sure? Panic starts to blossom in my chest, but then Christian inserts another finger and begins to thrust them in and out… Mmm… and a whole new feeling takes over, this one much lower down. Later. _I'll figure it out later._

After Christian's fingers take me away from reality - out of my head and over the brink - I melt into his arms and sink into a comfortable, and very sated, darkness. When I open my eyes again, the credits are rolling and Kate and Elliot are peeling themselves off each other, getting ready to head upstairs. Kate's lips look swollen, and her hair is wild. I'm sure all their pawing and grinding has them primed for the bedroom.

I sigh and shut my eyes again. I think we'll give them a few minutes. The wall between our bedrooms is a little on the thin side.

"Goodnight, sleepyheads," says Kate. "You two are so sweet all cuddled up. Sorry about the PDA."

 _No worries, Kate… while you were making out over there, Christian was fingering me into oblivion._

"Mmm… 'nite, Kate," I murmur, "Sleep tight, you two."

I listen for them to walk up the stairs and for Kate's bedroom door to close before opening my eyes and rolling onto my back to peer at Christian. His eyes are closed, his face peaceful… but a slight twitch at one corner of his mouth tells me that he is _not_ asleep. But I ask him anyway. "Are you asleep?"

His eyes fly open and he thrusts himself against my hip, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand in a single, swift movement.

"Anastasia," he says sternly, "your behavior earlier was very naughty. You came with your sweet pussy squeezing my fingers. And with your best friend and my brother just feet away."

I giggle and sink my teeth into my lower lip. I can't help myself.

"That's it." He growls, and leaps up, pulling me with him, and we're standing in front of the couch - facing each other - with my wrists still in his grip. His eyes are dark and possessive and he really looks mad. _He's just playing, right? He's not really mad at me… right?_ My heart is pounding in my chest as I gaze up at him, blue eyes meeting gray.

He sees my uncertainty and his face softens a little. With his free hand, he tucks a stray hair behind my ear, then cups my chin with his hand. "I'm just playing, baby," he soothes, "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," I say, dropping my gaze. "Don't stop."

He stands still for just a moment, then releases my wrists and leads me over to the arm of the couch. "Lean over and grab on. Don't let go."

I comply and grip the arm of the couch, which forces my butt up in the air. I feel cool air hit my warm skin as he pulls my sweatpants and panties down to my ankles in one swift motion.

"Naughty girl," he hisses, and - _smack_ \- his palm comes down on my bare bottom. _Ouch!_ It hurts, but it's more than that… it sends a shock wave of pleasure right through my core.

"Ah!" I call out, my voice a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"And now… You're going to let me take you right here in the living room. Bad girl. _Smack!_ His palm connects with my backside again, and this time he thrusts into me - his entire length filling me to the brim. Every week, I have to get used to him again, and every week, there's less room to spare.

"Ah!" I call out again, this time tensing up and digging my nails into the upholstered arm of the couch.

"Shit… I'm sorry, Ana. Am I hurting you? I'm sorry… I should have given you some warning -"

"Mmm… no, I'm okay," I say, cutting him off. "Just give me a second to…" And I relax my fingers, and then work my way up through my arms and shoulders, down my back to my core, feeling myself loosen and open to him.

"Okay?" He asks.

"Yes, please move. I'm okay…" And I show him that I'm ready by flexing back against him, pulling him deeper inside me.

Christian lets out a low growl, and then begins to thrust in and out, gaining force and momentum. I can feel the couch shifting beneath us as it starts to scoot across the floor. _Ahh_ … and I'm climbing and I can tell that Christian is close as well. His breathing is ragged and I know that this isn't going to take long at all. He reaches up under my shirt and grabs my nipple, twisting it. "Come for me, Ana…" he grunts.

And then I hear footsteps on the stairs and Kate's voice, "Sorry, I forgot my -" And then there's silence and I can only imagine what she sees to shut her up. Her mousy, bookworm, pregnant best friend being fucked within an inch of her life against our couch. "Oh shit…" she squeaks and I hear her feet on the stairs again as she scurries back up.

I start to laugh in horror, coming down off the ledge, my impending orgasm slipping away. But Christian doesn't let up. Within seconds, I feel him finish and pour himself into me. Only then does he relax, laughing as he sinks down against my back. "Oh fuck me, that was HOT," he says.

 **xoxox**

The next morning, I'm up before everyone else, and decide to make us all breakfast. I pull out the ingredients for pancakes, scrambled eggs with veggies, and bacon. I've just poured the first batch of pancakes onto the griddle, when Kate comes in. She looks a little sheepish, her arms in her cotton robe wrapped around her body, as she perches on one of the barstools at the breakfast bar.

I don't say anything. I just flip the pancakes, then go pour her a cup of coffee and slide it in front of her. Kate grips the mug and takes a sip before looking up at me, her hazel eyes dancing "Holy FUCK, Ana."

And that's it. We both start laughing hysterically and are still at it when the Grey men wander into the kitchen. Elliot takes the stool next to Kate, kissing her cheek and stealing a drink of her coffee.

Christian comes around and stands behind me as I move the first batch of pancakes off the griddle. He moved my hair to one side, then leans in to kiss my neck.

"Katherine," he says, looking up at her. _I know you saw me fucking your roomate last night._

"Christian," she answers. _Yeah, and you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself._

Kate and I just look at each other and grin, knowing these two men - for better or worse - are eating out of the palms of our hands. _Oh we have it made..._

After gorging ourselves on breakfast, we decide to take a hike up Tiger Mountain, which is on the Bellevue side of the lake, not too far from the Greys' family home. Christian drives, and this time it's a black, Audi SUV. How many cars does he have, anyway? I'm beside Christian in the passenger seat, and Elliot and Kate are in the back. Elliot and Christian are both quiet as we pass the last Bellevue exit on I-90.

"Your exit?" I ask softly, looking over at Christian, and then at Elliot who meets my eyes in the rearview mirror.

It's Elliot who answers me. "Yeah, mom's been griping about us missing so many Sunday dinners in a row. She suspects that I'm shacked up with a chick." He nudges Kate playfully and she laughs. Elliot's a little crass and rough around the edges, but somehow - with Kate - it works. "And Christian…. Well, she's afraid to ask."

A snippet of conversation from the first night I met Elliot flashes through my head. _"Dude, I thought you were gay…"_ At the time, much more pressing matters were at hand, and I filed that little tidbit away.

I look over at Christian again. "Is that it? Does your family really think that you're gay? Why?"

I can see the muscles working in his jaw, and I know that this conversation is only skimming the surface. _What about his special friend? His lack of girlfriends? His issues with touch?_ And I know this a discussion for another time. For when my best friend with curious ears is not in the back seat.

I look down and knot my fingers together on my lap. "Sorry, I didn't mean -"

Christian grips my hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing it. "Another time," he says, and then his expression brightens and he smirks. "And no, I am _most definitely_ not gay."

The hike up Tiger Mountain is vigorous, and by the time I crawl into bed that night - after a quick shower to wash off the trail dust - my whole body is aching. A night of sexcapades followed by a hike, then steaks for dinner grilled by the Grey men, topped off with an evening of laughter and open flirting, has left me exhausted. My groan is louder than normal as I lie down and stretch my back, rolling to face Christian who's already in bed.

He chuckles. "Tell me how you really feel."

I laugh. "You don't want to know."

I close my eyes, hoping sleep will claim us before he gets any ideas. _I'm too tired. I just can't_ … And then I feel his fingers skim along my jaw. "Actually, I do want to know."

I open my eyes and look him. His face is serious now, his gray eyes searching my face.

 _Oh… oh we're going there. Now._ He really wants to cut through the lighthearted banter, the fooling around, the tiptoeing around the tiny but definite elephant in the room.

Now wide awake, I sit up and bring my knees up, leaning forward to rest my chin on them and peering down at him. He sits up too, resting his head against my headboard, still looking at me in expectation.

"You want to know how I feel about… what?" I ask.

"Everything," he says. "Ana, being with you this past month has been… amazing. But we haven't had a serious conversation - about anything - since that day at the waterfall."

"I know," I whisper and I can feel tears starting to pool in my eyes. "I just needed some time… to think."

"I know you did, and I'm trying to give you that space. And it's not just you… it's me too. I don't exactly come into this baggage-free, you know."

"Why are you hiding from your family? What's the story with your special friend? What is your family going to think of me? Of us?"

"Ana, I had a rough start in life. It's a very long story and I promise to tell you all of it… and my family will love you. But," he pokes me in the ribs, "for tonight, I asked you first. How. Do. You. Feel?"

Oh, he doesn't play fair and I can see that changing the subject isn't going to work. I sigh and begin, "I feel sore all over, my hormones are raging, I have heartburn whenever I think about food. If I'm not horny and wanting to jump your bones, I'm completely and utterly exhausted. I feel fine one minute, forget myself and run up the stairs or _hike up a mountain_ , and wonder why I can't catch my breath."

I stop and look over at him, and he's quiet, waiting for me to go on.

"Suddenly I'm staring down into week twenty, wondering what happened and what the _fuck_ I'm going to do."

"Twenty weeks. I guess I didn't realize… so halfway there?" He asks.

I nod and swipe away a tear that's escaped and is sliding down my cheek. "I'm scheduled for an ultrasound on Thursday, and I'm not even excited about it. I'm dreading it and that can't be good, can it?"

"Why are you dreading it?"

"Because it's supposed to be this happy thing - a couple anticipating seeing their baby that they made out of love, and maybe finding out the gender. And I don't -"

"You don't want to know?"

I shake my head. "It just makes it that much more… _real_. And I'm not ready. I need more time. I know I sound like I don't care about or love this baby. But that's not true… I love it so much that I want to make the right decision about who's going to raise it. Am I the right person for the job? And this decision is going to affect his or her _whole life._ I have someone's _whole life_ in my hands. And this little time bomb is just ticking away."

"So you love the baby, but you're wondering if love is enough?"

I nod. And now it's his turn. "Is it enough for you? I mean, I'm sure you didn't set out to fall for a girl with a baby on board. You probably thought the worst that could happen is you knocking a girl up. But this - you have this dumped on you and you didn't even -"

"Shh… Ana, stop right there. When we were on the porch and you asked me if I was coming or going? I decided right then and there that I wanted to be with you. I'm not going to sit here and act like I know what decision you should make, but I want you to know that whatever you decide, I'm here. I'm here with _you_."

"But how do you know that? How do you know for sure? When we were standing there on that porch, inside I was begging you to go. To save yourself."

"I know because _you're_ saving me," he says, and in his eyes I can see the lost little boy that he was.

 _What happened to him?_

"But, that's a conversation for another day. It's late and we both need some sleep. Come." And he rolls onto his side, one arm tucked behind his head, the other raised to let me in.

I take one last look at his gorgeous face and give in, rolling into his embrace and letting my body curl against him. He brings me in close and slowly spreads his fingers across my belly. "And you know what else I know?" He asks softly.

"Hmm," I reply, already relaxing and ready for sleep.

"Feeling this baby move in reaction to my touch yesterday? It was one of the most thrilling experiences of my life. And I can't help but think that it's not an obligation, but a privilege. This baby may not have been conceived out of love, but it will be raised in it - whether by us or by deserving parents."

Of course it will. After all, he was raised with adoptive parents and siblings. Who better than him to know how good it can be?

"And you know what _else_ I know?" This time he doesn't even wait for my response. "The next one _will_ be conceived in love."

I scoff and start to shake my head. _Okay, we are getting way, WAY ahead of ourselves here._

"Don't shake your head at me, Anastasia. It'll happen. You'll see. Now sleep."

 **xoxox**

CPOV

Work has been kicking my ass all week. Getting a company off the ground is not for the weak. Ros, my number two, and I have been working sixteen-hour days. As I collapse into bed at eleven o'clock, on Thursday night, I have to remind myself that I am literally living out my wildest dreams. GEH is spreading its wings, and Ros and I all but have a port on Elliot Bay in the bag. It will pair nicely with the shipyard that we acquired earlier in the summer.

One more day. I just have to make it through one more long, exhausting day, and then I can spend the weekend with my girl. We've settled into a routine these past few weeks. We work like dogs Monday through Friday, sometimes late into the night, and then we take the weekends off. I thought Ros would fight me on it, but she was unusually agreeable to time off. Then I realized that she was pursuing an interest of her own… a tall, blonde named Gwen.

On Friday nights, we finish up by nine. I usually end up wrapped like a vine around Ana after we spend a few hours re-discovering each other. Then she makes us breakfast and we have a leisurely weekend. We might take a short hike, go out to eat, or just curl up on the couch together. The third option usually leads to other things, though. My dick twitches in appreciation of this, and I shut down that those thoughts immediately. No time for that tonight.

Where I really want to be - where I ache to be - is with my arms wrapped around my girl. But these late nights and early mornings aren't fair to her. She needs her rest. I check my phone - 11:10 PM - and scowl. It's too late to text her. But she usually sends me a 'goodnight' text around ten o'clock when she heads to bed. There's been nothing from her all evening, in fact. I could kick myself for not realizing this earlier, and now it's too late.

I continue to scowl at my phone… Thursday, September 27, 11:12 PM. _Thursday… Thursday… what was it about Thursday?_ And a cold, creeping sensation spreads through my gut. Fuck! Ana had her ultrasound today. And I am the worst boyfriend ever. I know she didn't invite me to go along, and if she had, I sure as hell would have put it in my calendar. But, being the _worst boyfriend EVER_ , I completely forgot that it was today. I shoot up out of bed and start to pace. I should have checked in with her, and now she's probably feeling neglected. She's mad at me and that's why she hasn't texted me.

I check that my alarm is set for 5:00 AM, and get back into bed, one arm over my eyes, willing sleep to come before I am eaten alive by guilt. I'll check in with her at seven tomorrow morning before I head into work.

Just as I am starting to relax, my phone pings. _Anastasia? What in the world is she doing awake? Just couldn't go to sleep without a goodnight?_ I smirk and roll over, grabbing my phone off the nightstand.

But it's not my Ana. It's a text from an unknown number with a Seattle area code. I swipe to open the text, figuring it must be a business contact.

 **11:19 PM**

 **Christian? It's Kate.**

 **Ana gave me your number for emergencies.**

I shoot up in bed. Emergencies? There's an emergency with Ana? Oh no, the ultrasound… there's something wrong with the baby.

Get a grip, Grey. With shaking hands, I text her back.

 _ **Hey Kate.**_

 _ **What's up? Is something wrong?**_

 **I just got home and Ana's in her room.**

 **She says she's fine, but she sounds upset.**

 **And she won't open her door.**

 **Did something happen?**

Fuck. Kate thinks it's me that's upset her. And a sinking feeling in my gut tells me that she might be right.

 _ **No. I just got home too.**_

 _ **I haven't spoken to her since yesterday.**_

 _ **She had her ultrasound today...**_

 **I talked to her earlier.**

 **She said it went fine.**

 **I don't think that's it.**

Relief floods through me when I read Kate's words.

 _ **Thanks Kate.**_

 _ **I'll text her.**_

I fire off a text to my sweet girl:

 _ **11:24 PM**_

 _ **Hey baby,**_

 _ **I thought you would be asleep by now.**_

 _ **Kate's worried about you.**_

 _ **What's wrong?**_

I wait five long, agonizing minutes and… nothing. No reply, not even a receipt that the iMessage was read.

I call her phone and it goes straight to voicemail. She has her goddamn phone turned off. How am I supposed to… _Shit._

I text Kate again.

 _ **Her phone is off.**_

 _ **I'm coming over. Let me in?**_

 **Yep.**

 **See you soon.**

I quickly pull on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. I know that I'm going to be hurting on sleep tomorrow, but it can't be helped. Something's up with my girl, and I won't be able to rest until I know what it is.

Ten minutes later, I pull up in front of the little bungalow that the girls share. Kate holds the door open for me and I slip quietly inside.

"Any luck?" I ask, figuring that Kate's been posted outside Ana's door since arriving home.

"No. She just keeps telling me that it's late and I should get to bed. That she's fine. But I can hear her crying. I'm really worried about her, Christian."

We head up the stairs and I can hear Ana on the other side of her bedroom door. She's trying to be quiet, but I can hear her gulping back sobs and sniffling. I try the doorknob. Locked. I step back and ask Kate quietly for a bobby pin. Growing up as a middle child definitely gave me some useful life skills. I was forever 'breaking in' to Elliot and Mia's rooms and playing tricks on them.

Kate returns a minute later with a bobby pin, and I deftly pop the privacy lock. Giving Kate her bobby pin and a nod of thanks, I slip into the dark bedroom and there she is - curled up on her bed, facing away from me. I push the door shut and walk over to the bed.

"Kate… I told you…" she sniffles. "I'm fine. I don't want to…"

"Shh… baby," I whisper, slipping off my shoes and crawling onto the bed behind her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in. This isn't the scenario I would have chosen, but at least I got her into my arms tonight.

Her whole body stiffens in surprise. "Christian? How did you…"

"Relax, Ana, please," I plead, kissing her behind the ear. I can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and I am sure her blood pressure is sky-high. It can't be good for her or for the baby. "Kate texted me and said you were upset."

"And you came over? But you're only getting like five hours of sleep a night. And Kate has to be up at six for work, and I…"

"And you didn't want to bother us?"

She nods.

"Baby, of course I came over. But I wish you had called me. Instead, you turned off your phone and locked your door? Ana, that's not safe."

She sniffs again, and I can feel her body building up for another round of tears.

"Shh… I want you to relax. Take a deep breath, lean into me and get your heart rate under control. And then I want you to talk to me."

I feel her breathe in and out, and slowly the tension leaves her body as her heart rate slows. I just lie there, holding her, for several minutes. Finally, not wanting her to relax so much that she falls asleep, I ask her what's upsetting her.

She takes one more deep breath, and lets it out in a shudder.

Her voice is shaky as she begins to talk. "On Tuesday I met with a social worker. Just to - you know - get some information. To find out about my options."

Now it's my turn to tense up. Was she asking about adoption? Is she seriously thinking about giving the baby up for adoption? I know I said I would support either choice, but deep down, I can't help but picture us as a family.

Why didn't she tell me? I would have gone with her. S _he didn't tell you because you've been working sixteen-hour days, you prick. You're not making time for her. And she knows you won't have time for a child, either._

"Ana, why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Anyway, it's… it's not going to work out anyway because Jack -" and she buries her face in her hands, sobbing again.

 _Jack? What has that fucker done now? I thought he was long gone… out of the picture._

"Jack, what? Ana? What did Jack do?" _If he dared contact her and upset her like this, I swear I will rip his little_ \- "What did he say to you?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing. But this afternoon, the social worker called me and said that Jack filed p-papers."

"What papers?" What is she talking about?

She takes a deep breath. "The day before he left for Alaska, Jack filed paternity papers at the courthouse. If I decide to move forward with an adoption, Jack can swoop in and decide to parent. He could get custody of the baby. Once he proves paternity, he'll be at the top of the list, no questions asked."

 _Oh no. No, no, no he doesn't. There is no way that prick is getting ahold of this baby._

"And if you decide not to go that route?" I ask.

She shrugs. "As the mother, I would probably get custody by default. No one wants to take a newborn away from its mother without a good reason. But the case worker said he could come forward at any time. That he could take me to court for visitation, unless I get him to sign away his rights."

So that's it. The choice is essentially out of her hands. Whether she feels ready to parent or not, she either has to choose to raise this baby or risk handing it over to Jack. The weight of the world - or at least the future of one very small baby - rests on her slim shoulders.

"Ana, I know that you feel alone right now, but you're not. I promise you that I want us to be in this together. We can raise this baby -'

But my words are drowned out by her sobs, and I just hold her close and let her cry.

 **xoxox**

APOV

Friday morning brings sunshine and a clearer head. My mood is further brightened by the fact that I woke in Christian's arms. Even though nothing got resolved last night, I have never been a person who can stay in a dark mood for long. I slide out of Christian's embrace, taking a moment to admire him. At some point, he took off his t-shirt and sweatpants, and I can see his happy trail leading to the waistband of his boxer briefs and down to his… I shake my head. _No, Ana. Pee, shower, breakfast, work… and then the weekend will be here._

Christian and Kate follow my lead, and a hurried Friday breakfast is followed by a lazy Friday evening. On Saturday, we take Christian's boat out again. This time, she's been painted a glossy white and her name has been added in a bold, navy blue script - _The Grace._

Once we reach the open waters of Puget Sound, Elliot takes over the helm with Kate perched on a bench beside him. The captain, a burly man named Mac, is hoisting the sails. Christian stands with me at the rail, the wind whipping our hair and clothing.

"Is _The Grace_ named after your mom?" I ask. "Obviously she means a lot to you, but you hardly ever talk about her."

"Yes, she was the first woman to save me… and then I got lost again, and I'm sorry to say that I've been - distanced - from my family for some time, but -"

"Then you met me," I smile.

"Then I met you, and now I feel like… At least I hope that… maybe I will be able to put all of the pieces of my life back together."

"Good," I say, and lean my head back against him.

"So you'll come with me to Sunday dinner? Meet my mother? And my father… and my obnoxious little sister?"

"Yes," I agree. "I'm feeling generous today. Now, is there a bedroom on this boat or what?"

Several hours and a few orgasms later, we are pulling into the dock at Christian's shipyard. I've spent the final part of the journey curled up in a cushioned chaise with a book. I'm relaxed and, even though the air is chilly, the sun is warm.

I can see Christian standing at the wheel as he steers us toward the dock. Suddenly he stiffens and leans forward, peering at something ahead of us.

"Speak of the devil," he says through clenched teeth. I pop up and, following his gaze, see a woman sitting on the dock beside the empty slip. She has unruly blonde hair and oversized sunglasses, and she she's swinging her slender legs as she sits waiting.

Who is it that's causing this reaction from him? Is that _her? His special friend?_

"Who is that, Christian?" I ask.

He answers, but now I can tell that he's hiding a smile behind his annoyed expression. "THAT is my baby sister, Mia." He finally loses the battle, and a broad grin breaks out across this face.

 _His baby sister. Mia. And he's completely and totally smitten with her. Hmm. Seems that I wasn't the first girl to wrap Christian Grey around my little finger._

Christian, his mask of annoyance back in place, ignores her as he pulls the boat expertly into the slip, killing the engine. Mac jumps off to tie off the lines.

The girl - Mia - stands up and crosses her arms as she waits for her wayward brothers to disembark. I can see now that she's very young - much younger than Elliot and Christian.

"Lelliot and Chrissy Grey, get off that boat. You can't hide from me," she calls out.

The boys have the decency to look sheepish as they climb from the boat down onto the dock. Kate grabs Elliot's hand and hops down, and I am the only one left. Getting up here was no problem, but I'm not sure if I have the balance to -

"Come on, baby," Christian says and reaches out, gripping me under the arms and swinging me down the two feet to the dock.

"Thanks, Chrissy," I tease, once my feet are safely on the planks of the dock. He rolls his eyes, but soon all humor is gone from his face as we turn to face Mia.

"What are you doing here, Mia? Are you following us?" Christian accuses.

"Well you two certainly haven't had the decency to show your faces at home," she spits right back.

"It's complicated Mia," says Christian, running his hands through his copper curls and making them stand on end.

"I can see that," she says, looking over at me and then eyeing Kate who's standing halfway hidden behind Elliot. "But Christian - Elliot - I don't even care." Now her chin is quivering as her angry facade weakens. "I've missed you. I've missed my big brothers."

Christian takes my hand and then walks up to Mia and puts an arm around her. "Come on, we can go up to _The Anchor_ \- he indicates a little dockside bar and grill - and talk. How did you get here, anyway? I didn't know they were letting little girls drive these days."

"I'm seventeen, Christian, and I've had my license for _over a year,_ " she scoffs, but she lets Christian lead her, checking behind us to make sure Elliot and Kate are following.

Christian and Elliot make introductions before we all take a seat at a round table near the railing of the outside bar area. Christian puts a possessive hand around my waist, introducing me as his girlfriend. Just hearing the word makes me smile, and I reach out and shake Mia's hand. She gives me a warm smile and I can't help but feel like I'm going to like this girl. She's like a younger version of Kate - a feisty exterior with no filter, but a loving spirit underneath.

She holds true to my first assumption as she flops into her seat. "Well, Christian, I can see that you two have been busy. Mom and Dad are going to flip out, you know. I mean, _holy shit_. We thought you were gay."

With that, we all burst out laughing and, after ordering a round of drinks - virgin concoctions for me and Mia - we begin to tell her our story from the beginning.

She laughs, she almost cries, but mostly she listens as we talk. Mia slams back the rest of her sparking water and cranberry juice like it's a stiff drink, slumps back in her chair and just says, "Wow."

I stir the rest of my own drink, and reiterate that Christian really did just invite me to Sunday dinner with the family. Mia looks around the table, narrowing her eyes at her brothers. "So I can tell the parentals that you'll all be there tomorrow? You too, Elliot and Kate?"

We all nod, knowing that she won't take any other answer. After all, she knows our secrets, and knowledge is power.

"Great, then I will see you all tomorrow. Have a good night!" And with that she stands and strides away.

"Mia, will you do me a favor?" Christian calls after her.

She turns and looks at him, and I know she's equally unable to say no to him. "Yeah?"

"Tell Mom and Dad… just tell them not to jump to any conclusions? To let us explain first?"

"Will do, big brother." She makes a tiny salute, turns on her heel, and is gone.

Christian lets out a huge sigh, shakes his head, and laughs. "THAT," he says, "is what we like to call Hurricane Mia."

CPOV

Driving to my parents' house in Bellevue on Sunday afternoon, Ana and I are quiet in the car. Elliot and Kate spent a rare night at his place last night, so we're on our own. I look over at her and she's lovely in a dark brown wrap dress, her hair down, and light make-up.

She catches me looking and squirms in her seat. I know what she's thinking. _Do I look okay? What are they going to think? Will they like me and be accepting of our situation?_

"You look lovely. I'm so glad that you're not hiding in an oversized sweatshirt today."

She shrugs. "Thank you. It's time to come clean. And let's face it… Next, it's your turn to meet _my father_." Those two words send a chill down my spine and - for once - I'm glad it's not me who knocked her up.

"And relax about my parents… I'm sure that they'll give us a chance to explain. Sure, they're going to leap to the obvious conclusion, but they'll have the good grace to hold back and let us explain."

Ana nods, and then she sinks her teeth into that plump lower lip of hers. _Oh god, that lip_ … "Don't bite your lip, Anastasia," I warn. "I want to make it through lunch before I have to haul you off to my childhood bedroom and have my way with you underneath my model airplane collection."

She giggles - _oh, I love that sound_ \- and releases her lip. I relax until I realize that she's now rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, trying to release a little of the sexual tension caused by my threat. _Oh fuck me…_

My parents - Grace and Carrick - meet us at the door and my mother's eyes immediately go to Ana's stomach.

"Well, this is certainly news," she exclaims, clapping her hands together. "But aren't we going at this a little backwards, Christian?" She peers behind me, as if expecting someone else to come through the door.

When I reach back and shut the door, she looks confused. "Didn't you bring him with you?" she asks.

"Bring who?" Now I am the one who is confused. I look over at Ana, but she doesn't seem to have a clue either.

"I mean, I think that surrogacy is a _beautiful_ thing, but I was hoping to at least meet your partner," my mother says.

So much for them not jumping to conclusions. "Ana is not my surrogate, mother. And for the record… Is everyone listening?" They both nod. "I. Am. Not. Gay."

My mother's mouth drops open into a little 'o' as she looks from me to Ana and back again. My father looks flustered but manages to regain his composure first. He grips my mother's shoulders and steers her toward the sitting area where Kate, Elliot, and Mia are waiting. I know they overheard, and that they are all trying to stifle laughs. Elliot's face is hidden behind Kate's shoulder, but I can see his shoulders shaking as he holds it in.

 _Oh for fuck's sake. It's going to be a long afternoon._

Thanks to my mother's embarrassment over her earlier outburst, she quickly agrees not to interrupt us as we tell our story over lunch. We're actually able to fill them in on the last five weeks by the time we polish off the blackberry cobbler that my mother made for dessert.

I sit back, licking the back of my fork, and look over at my mother, nodding at her that it's okay for her to ask questions."

"Well," she exhales, "That's quite the story. And Ana, dear girl, you are so brave. And I can tell that my son adores you."

Ana blushes and looks down at her hands. "Thank you. I adore him too." She looks up and around the table. "And how about Kate and Elliot? Don't they make the _cutest_ couple?"

I chuckle and look down at my sweet girl. As usual, she's managed to change the subject and steer the conversation away from herself. She looks up at me with those clear blue eyes, and then raises her eyebrows before sinking her teeth into that lower lip again. _She's fucking doing this on purpose!_ My dick twitches in appreciation.

Seeing that my parents, Mia, Kate, and Elliot are now engaged in conversation, I am up and out of my chair murmuring something about giving Ana a tour of the house.

I drag her out of the room - _sweet girl, my ass._ She's about to get a taste of what I can do in my childhood bedroom.

Ten minutes later, we're lying back on my plaid comforter, letting our breathing return to normal as my model airplanes sway overhead.

Ana's sweating, tendrils of hair sticking to her face, and her cheeks are flushed. And those aren't the only cheeks that are pink. I know her ass is glowing right about now. She still has her dress on, but her shredded underwear are balled up in my hand. Yep, she's about to continue the afternoon with my parents sans panties.

"What's that one?" She asks innocently, pointing toward a gun-metal gray plane.

"That's a Hawker Harrier. I was so impressed with those as a kid. My dad would take me to air shows and we'd watch them rise straight up from the ground." I take my hand and place it flat on her chest, then lift it. "Then - zoom - they were gone." I fly my hand straight to her ribs and tickle her.

She laughs and then points to another plane. "I like that one. It's so pretty."

"I think so too. I've always loved the _Blue Angels._ They fly over Lake Washington for Sea-Fair every year. Have you ever seen them?"

She shakes her head. "I'd love to see them. Will you take me?"

I nod and then lean in for a kiss. "I'd like nothing better. Now come. Let's get you cleaned up."

I get up and take her hand, leading her into the en-suite bathroom. _She's making plans for next summer. She's talking about our future… I don't know what it will look like, or who it will include, but she sees a future with me._

APOV

 _Three months later..._

Fall gave way to winter and the holiday season, and Christian and I travelled to Montesano to spend Christmas with Ray. We all tried to put on a happy face, but it was awkward. One minute, Ray would be enthusiastically serving up eggnog. The next minute, he would be staring off into the distance with a frown on his face. He's the only family I have, and as the days passed, I found it harder and harder to imagine adding a baby to our lives.

Christian finally sat me down and we had a heart-to-heart talk about his touch issues and his years with Elena. I shiver whenever I think about what he has endured. And I am glad that he was able to come out on the other side, into the light, and find me. He still has some business contacts with her, who I have dubbed 'The Bitch Troll,' but I don't think she has a hold on him like she once did.

 **xoxox**

One nice thing about taking the bus at thirty-four weeks pregnant is that I always have a seat - usually a double seat - to myself. On the way home from work, I lean against the fogged-up window and watch the city pass by. I rest one hand on top of my belly and I feel my baby shift and roll under my hand. He - or she - is really getting big now, running out of room. Instead of complete flips, it's like a shifting side-to-side, and feet always up in my ribs.

"You're running out of room, little one," I whisper, "and we still have six weeks together." Six weeks, and if all goes as planned, I will be handing the baby over to Jack and his family. I have to think with my head, not with my heart, and do what's best for the baby.

I'm half asleep when the bus approaches my stop. I pull the rope to request the stop, but wait until the bus is fully stopped to heft myself out of the seat. I am way too unsteady on my feet to risk it while the bus is in motion.

Kate's already home when I walk in and hang up my damp jacket. She's on the couch, phone in hand, decompressing after her work day. She looks up, and I see… concern? Pity?

"Oh Ana, you look exhausted…"

I catch a glimpse of myself in the little mirror by the coat hooks. _Ugh..._ I look pale and there are dark circles under my eyes.

"Thanks," I say sarcastically, and make my way over to the couch, easing myself down with an 'oof' and kicking off my flats. In spite of her concerned expression, Kate looks gorgeous. She's wearing a red pencil skirt and colorful blouse, her blonde hair in a messy bun that manages to look sexy, not just messy, as mine does.

 _Ugh… life is not fair._ I'm wearing one of three pairs of polyester maternity pants that still fit - charcoal today - and a navy blouse, one of five that I own in various shades of drab. My feet hurt and I'm sure they're swollen beyond recognition.

"Do you want me to order some food?" Kate asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's my turn to cook. Just give me a minute…" And I lay my head back, close my eyes. _I just need a minute…_

When I open my eyes, it's dark in the room and there's a blanket on me. _Shit… how long did I sleep?_ I smell… pizza? And I hear voices coming from the kitchen. Kate and Elliot… no, not Elliot… Christian! _Double shit._ Fully awake now, I manage to get myself to a standing position, my feet and back protesting. The couch is not good for my back. _Ouch_. Taking a deep breath, I head for the kitchen and push through the swinging door, being careful to open it with my hand, not my protruding belly.

Kate and Christian stop talking and look up when I enter, Christian jumping up as soon as he sees me. "Hey, there you are, sleeping beauty." And he comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek, skimming one hand along my jaw.

I laugh and my hand goes to my hair, that could not have improved during my nap, and then rub my eyes. "You're sweet," I say, and then lean in and give him a soft kiss on the lips.

"Okay, break it up, you two!" says Kate. She's half teasing, but I know she can't forget the mental picture of us by the couch. "Christian brought pizza. Want some, Ana? I'll warm up a slice for you."

I nod and sink into one of the chairs at the little kitchen table and Kate brings me a piece of garlic chicken pizza, my usual favorite, and a can of Sprite. I thank her and take a bite of pizza. It's warm and gooey, but when I look back up at them, the food practically congeals in my mouth. They're both staring at me, concern on their faces, both of them looking like they want the other to break the ice.

I force myself to swallow, then - trying to keep my voice casual - ask, "So what were you guys talking about?"

They both look extremely guilty at this. _So they were talking about me, then. Busted._ Kate blushes and Christian clears his throat, then finds his voice.

"We were just - um - talking about how it's - um - " he falters.

"Getting close," Kate finishes for him.

I nod and look down at my pizza, noticing the sheen of grease on the chicken and how the cheese pulled away from the toppings as it cooled. _Gross_. I push my plate away, then take a sip of my Sprite.

 _It's time to tell them. It's time to break the news and to put my plan into motion._

"I know… and I think it's time for me to go." I say.

"Go where?" asks Christian, his voice raised and incredulous.

"To Alaska. I already made plans… Jack and I talked and I'm going up there to have the baby. I want to time to… make sure it's the right place for him - or her. And then…" I make the mistake of looking up from my pizza to Christian and Kate, who are both gaping at me in disbelief.

"And then, _what_?" asks Kate, her voice tight.

"And then I'll come home." I say, and then get up from the table, getting out of the kitchen as fast as I can. Before they can see the tears that are starting to slide down my cheeks.

CPOV

Ana is quicker than she looks, and she manages to make it all the way up to her room before I catch up with her. I grab her by the elbow and spin her around to face me.

"You talked to him?!" _What the fuck?_

"Yes, he called last week… and yesterday. And he sounds… different. He sounds like he's gotten his life back on track. He has a steady girlfriend, and she has two little kids. They just bought a home together, and his parents are willing to help out. The baby would have a real family."

 _Except for the guy is the next best thing to a rapist. Who films women having sex with him. Is she freaking serious? Has she lost her mind?_

"There's only one way for me to figure this out," she says. And when she looks up at me, her chin is set and her eyes are determined. "I have to go see for myself. I have to go to Ketchikan."

And just like that, my world comes crashing down around me. She has to go. She's leaving. "You're leaving?" I manage to choke out.

She puts one small hand on the side of my face, and I lean into her touch.

"I'm not leaving _you_ , Christian. But I have to figure this out so that we can move forward. So that we can finally be together without all this - baggage - in our way."

 _Baggage?_ Anger pulses through me and suddenly I am seeing red. I manage to say in a controlled voice, "I didn't see it as baggage, Ana. I saw it as a baby. Let me know when you figure it out." And with that I stand up and leave the room, walking straight out to my car. I wait until I am behind the wheel, the car door firmly closed, before I explode.

I pound my palms against the steering wheel over and over until they ache, then run them through my hair.

 _What have I done?_ I knew that I should not have let myself fall for this girl. That I was going to wind up getting hurt. But I just couldn't help myself and I had to have a taste of that sweet, forbidden fruit.

And as much as I know I shouldn't - that it's going to be the end of me once and for all - I know that I'm going to take another bite.

I stare up at her still-darkened bedroom window. Even though she's leaving, I'll never be able to let her go.

 **xoxox**

 **Author's note: Thanks for taking another bite of this story with me! Part Three is well underway and I hope to post it by the end of this month. Leave me a review and I'll reply with a teaser! Until then... Thanks for reading! xo**


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

 _ **Down to the Core**_

APOV

I have the handle of my suitcase clutched in one hand, my ferry ticket in the other, my ratty college backpack thrown over one shoulder. We're at the ferry terminal in Bellingham, an hour and a half north of Seattle, the gateway to the Alaska Marine Highway.

Christian is standing next to me as the announcement for walk-ons to board is made. Risking getting rain in my eyes, I look up into his sweet face. His jaw is set, and I know he's being strong for me while he breaks apart under the surface. He's been amazing, my saving grace, my lover. _And I'm leaving him._

As much as I want to stay safe in his arms - and hide from the world - I have to face this head on. Because the other very important person in my life - one who's tiny and helpless - needs me to make the biggest decision ever.

The hand holding my ticket moves to my belly and I press in slightly. I am rewarded by a small movement, as the baby pushes back against my hand.

I smile and Christian puts his hand on top of mine. "Someone awake?" He asks.

"Yes, not wanting to be forgotten in the goodbyes." I say.

"Be good, little one," he says. "Be nice to your mommy. And I will see you both again soon."

We both know that this might not be true. That if all goes to plan, the baby will end up staying in Alaska without me.

As usual, Christian is reading my mind. "Ana," he says, "even if you… decide - " He can't even say it. He wants me to decide to keep it so badly. But how can he know that? How can he be so sure? I wish that I possessed his confidence in the future. "Even if you decide… I could come visit?"

I shake my head. "Don't… please." And as the whistle blows to announce the ferry's impending departure, I pull his face to mine and kiss him soundly on the lips. He answers my kiss, deepening it, urging me not to do this. To stay here with him.

I pull back, turn, and walk away. I have to do this. I have to know that I am making the right decision. I have to have the strength to do the right thing - not for me, not for Jack, not for Christian - for my baby.

I walk toward the ferry. One step at a time… across the wet asphalt, to the ticket counter. It was an electronic reservation, so I show my ID and the attendant prints a boarding pass for me. Then I am waved through, and up the metal ramp. I don't allow myself to turn and look until I am up on the deck, looking down from over the railing. He's still there... watching me. His shoulders are hunched, and although I can't see his gray eyes clearly from this distance, I know they are dark and sad.

"Miss?" I hear a gruff voice behind me and turn to see an older man in an _Alaska State Ferries_ uniform. "If you'll show me your ticket, I'll help you with your bags?"

I fumble for the boarding pass, which is stuffed in the side pocket of my backpack, and hand it to the man.

His eyes brighten when he sees it. "Aha! Very nice… a first-class cabin. Follow me, please." The man grasps the handle of my suitcase and turns away. I have no choice but to close my gaping mouth, give Christian one last wave, and turn to follow the man.

"Excuse me," I protest as I followed his dark coat across the now-crowded deck. "I'm supposed to be in coach? In a semi-private cabin?"

"Not according to your ticket, you're not," he says, and he stops and holds it up for me to see.

I peer at the ticket in front of my face and it's there in black and white:

 **Steele, Anastasia, First-class deluxe suite, Porter service**

 _Well, son of a bitch_ … This has Christian written all over it. What has he done? Did he hack the system? More like paid someone to hack it...

"And you're my porter?" I ask. But it's not really a question. I realize now that he must have been watching for me to board the ferry.

He tips his hat and points to his brass name tag that says, _Bill_. "At your service, Miss."

I follow _Bill_ down a narrow stairway to the cabin area. He stops and inserts a key card into a door marked "Deluxe A" and opens it, motioning for me to enter.

The room isn't large or fancy - it's a ferry, after all - but it looks clean and perfectly adequate. There's a double bed, a dresser, and two seats by the window with a table in between them. Through a doorway, there's a private bathroom with a shower.

While I look around, Bill puts my suitcase on a stand and then waits near the doorway.

"This room is very nice, but… it's really not what I reserved. I'm not sure that I should…" I say.

"Well, if you like, I can show you to the semi-private rooms? Four to a room and a shared bath in the hallway? Of course, by now all of the lower bunks will have been claimed," he says, his blue eyes twinkling as he eyes my middle.

I chuckle and cross my arms. I had made a reservation for a lower bunk but, of course, that reservation no longer exists. _That sneaky…_ "No, thank you. This will be fine."

"Anything else I can get for you, Miss? A beverage or…"

I shake my head and then suddenly realize that he must be waiting for a tip. Embarrassed, I begin to rummage through my backpack, finding a $5 bill.

Bill holds up a hand as I approach him with the crumpled tip. "No need, Miss. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't originally assigned to this voyage. But, a very persuasive Mr. Grey has made it worth my while. I've always wanted to take soaring lessons." He gives me a wink and leaves, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

I stand, stunned, for a moment before walking over to take a seat by the window. I can feel the vibrations of the engines and hear the _clank_ _-clank_ sounds of cars being loaded.

So I not only have a porter, but a _private_ porter. No doubt hired not only to help me, but to keep an eye on me. _Hmm_. I pull out my phone, ready to send Christian a snarky text. But as I sit, staring out at the gray waters of Puget Sound, my feelings of irritation ebb away. _He just wants to take care of you… so let him!_

 **Thanks for the upgrade, but I was ok with coach.**

His response is immediate.

 _ **First is nicer. Let Bill take care of you. Wish it was me.**_

 _ **Safe journey.**_

I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. _What_ _am_ _I doing? How_ _can_ _I leave him? It's only for a little while… and it's for the baby._ As if on cue, I feel him or her shift and roll as if settling in for the journey. _And when it's all over, I can come back and Christian and I can start our lives together._

With a sigh, I lay my head back on the upholstered headrest and close my eyes. In no time, the engines - and then then the motion of the ship beginning to move - lulls me to sleep.

A knock at the door wakes me, and I rub my eyes and stretch as I make my way over to the door. A peek through the peephole confirms that it's Bill, and I open the door.

"It's nearly lunchtime, Miss. Have you had a chance to look over the room service menu?" He asks, gesturing to a stack of leaflets on the small dresser.

"Oh… I thought I would just go upstairs for meals? To the cafeteria?" I stammer, still not quite awake.

Bill's mouth tightens, and I know that he has been given instructions. "Miss, in the cafeteria, you have to carry your own tray… and with the motion of the ship… I think that room service would be best. If you're wanting to eat outside of your room, may I suggest dinnertime? There is a full-service restaurant in operation at that time."

I have to agree that balancing a tray on a moving ship with my current lack of coordination isn't the best idea. Deciding not to protest further, I quickly scan the menu and order a boxed lunch with a chicken salad sandwich and fruit.

"Very good, Miss. And I will make you dinner reservations for the extent of your journey? Say, 6:00 each evening?"

I nod in agreement, and Bill turns on his heel, off to fetch my lunch.

After I have eaten lunch and unpacked everything that I will need during the two-day journey to Jack's home in Ketchikan, I am feeling restless. For once, I don't want to read or nap the afternoon away.

Deciding to get some fresh air, I shrug on my green raincoat and head for the observation deck. The area is semi-protected from the elements with glass windows on three sides. I find an empty chair with a view of the passing coastline, and lower myself into it.

"Won't be long now, will it?" I hear a creaky voice say. I turn away from the window toward the chair next to me, and am face-to-face with an elderly woman. She's rosy-faced and wrinkled, and the rest of her is hidden in a hat, scarf, heavy coat, and blanket. She's clutching a mass of pink yarn and knitting needles on her lap.

"No… five weeks," I answer.

She holds up her partially completed project, a tiny cardigan with intricate stitching and lace-work. "This is for my third great-grandchild," she says proudly. "A little girl that was born last month. I'm headed to Anchorage to meet her, and I'm finishing her gift on the way." She chuckles. "And like with every other baby… six children, fourteen grandchildren... I swore I would get her sweater done ahead of time. And, somehow, nine months is never long enough."

I smile. _Oh, I know what she means. Nine months isn't nearly long enough._

"I'm Ida Mae and I could teach you," she says. "You could make a hat for your little one?"

"I'm Ana, and I couldn't..." I say, eyeing the fancy little sweater.

She waves a gnarled hand. "Oh a baby hat is the easiest thing in the world to make. I made my first one at seven years old. Nothing like knitting to make the time and the miles pass."

Still unsure, but tempted by a vision of a tiny hat for my baby, I smile and say, "Okay, I'd love to try... if you're sure you don't mind."

She is already reaching down to a basket at her feet. "Pink or blue, dear?"

"Um, I decided not to find out."

She nods and continues to rifle through her basket, finally resurfacing with a ball of mint green yarn and a set of tiny knitting needles connected by a flexible, plastic cable.

She sees my face and smiles. "Circular knitting needles, dear. They're the best thing since sliced bread."

Over the next hour, Ida Mae coaches me through the basics of making a baby hat. Casting on stitches, placing a stitch marker, and knitting the first few rows. She patiently guides me when I get confused and she fixes my mistakes.

I concentrate on my work with the poem for making stitches - intended for young children, I am sure - running through my head.

 _In through the front door_

 _Run around the back_

 _Peep through the window_

 _And off jumps Jack!_

Soon I am in a rhythm, and with my hands moving on their own, my mind is free. I find myself thinking about the baby, picturing him or her in the little hat. Long eyelashes, a snub nose… blue eyes or brown? I imagine making a matching sweater and little booties.

"Now you've got it," says Ida Mae. "Thinking about your little one?"

I nod. How did she know?

"I do the same thing… thinking about this baby and the ones that came before her. They say there's love in every stitch. And it's true."

As we knit companionably, I find myself opening up to Ida Mae. I don't give her the sordid details, but tell her that I'm traveling to Ketchikan and that the baby's father is there. That I've been in Seattle while he has been working in Alaska. She doesn't press me for details, but I'm sure she wonders why we haven't been together in the past months.

Ida Mae and I spend most of the time on our voyage together, and she helps me to finish off the hat over dinner on the second day. The stop for Ketchikan will come early in the morning for me, while Ida Mae will travel for a few more days up to Anchorage. We exchange addresses - actual snail mail addresses! - and promise to keep in touch.

When the ferry docks in Ketchikan, I am ready. Well, as ready as I'll ever be. It's still dark at just before 7AM, and the ferry is almost silent as it slides through the foggy air into the dock. It's been raining on and off - mostly a fine mist - since we left Bellingham, but as we arrive it's raining in earnest. _Fabulous._

Bill is standing beside me, and he pulls my suitcase down the ramp as we walk off the ferry. A tall figure, standing next to what looks like some sort of vertical billboard, raises his hand in greeting. _Jack._

Seeing that his work is finished, Bill gives me one last tip of his hat and turns to re-board the ferry. "Miss, have a safe stay in Ketchikan now," he says.

I know he'll be reporting back to Christian, so I give him my best smile and thank him before taking ahold of the handle of my suitcase and turning to walk toward Jack.

He steps forward as I approach, and I crane my neck to see what's on the sign that towers above us.

"Ana!"

"Hi… Jack." We stand awkwardly, peering at each other, not knowing what to say. "Um, what's this?" I ask, pointing up to the sign. It has a painted-in rain gauge along one side and says:

 **Ketchikan, Alaska: Liquid Sunshine Gauge. Busted in 1949: 202.55 inches!**

"Welcome to Ketchikan, Ana. Liquid Sunshine Capital of the World… we get more rain here than just about anywhere."

 _Ohh… great._

Jack takes the handle of my suitcase and leads me up the street to a huge pick-up. He hefts the suitcase into the back and then opens the passenger door for me. How in the world am I supposed to get up into this thing? The seat is at the height of my chest. Jack eyes me and then the pick-up. "Just step up onto the running board. I've got you…" and he grips me by the elbow. _Oh boy_. After a couple of failed attempts, I am finally perched on the seat. The truck looks fairly new, but it smells like cigarette smoke and fish. I glance in the back seat, and there are two booster seats - for her children - and my stomach flips at the sight of them.

Jack smirks when he catches me looking. "Yep, I'm a family man now." And he starts the engine, gunning it to life. The drive through the dark streets of Ketchikan doesn't take long, and soon Jack is pulling into a gravel parking space along a side street. This must be where he lives? But I don't see a house… just a set of wooden stairs marked by a green street sign that says, "Water Street." It's fitting, as there's a stream running right down the hillside next to it.

After I manage to climb down from the truck, I just peer up the stairs, confused. Jack comes up behind me with my suitcase. "The hills are so steep here, that there are flights of stairs instead of streets in some places."

I shake my head, not knowing quite what to say. And then I start up the stairs, with Jack following behind. By the time we reach the top, I am out of breath, and I stop to look around. The ground is more level here, and there is a sidewalk connecting the stairs to a few homes. The rain has stopped, but there is water is dripping off the rooftops, and there are puddles everywhere.

"Well, here we are," says Jack, gesturing to the first house on the right. "Home, sweet, home. What do you think?"

I can only think of one adjective to describe my overwhelming impression of the place. "It's very… _wet_." The 'house' is actually a mobile home, set up on a concrete slab. _How in the world did they get this thing up here?_

Jack ushers me inside, and thankfully it's warm and dry. Relieved, I finally pull off my hood and wipe the excess rain off my face.

We both take off our raincoats and wet shoes, and Jack has his first real look at me. "Wow, look at you…" he says, and then we both just stand there awkwardly for a moment.

I shift my weight back and forth between my sock-covered feet. What do I say to him? _See what happens when you put your dick where it doesn't belong?_

I'm saved from myself and my dark thoughts by a cheery voice, and a woman comes walking into the room. "Hello? Are you back?"

A woman with long, dark hair emerges from what I assume is the kitchen. She's wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she comes toward us. "You must be Ana…"

 **xoxox**

CPOV

The next five weeks are torture. I throw myself into my work, trying to distract myself from constantly worrying about Ana. _Is she safe… warm… well-fed?_ I'm barely sleeping at night, wanting to hold her, and wondering if she's thinking about me too. I buy an apartment in a building called _Escala_ , a new high-rise that's close to work. I had entertained thoughts of a house by the water, with room to run - a place for a swing set and maybe a dog… But if we're not going to be a family, then we don't need a family home.

The interior of the apartment is pristine and gorgeous, and almost entirely unfurnished. The only thing I have in the expansive living area is a glossy, black grand piano, which I have taken to playing at night when I can't sleep. More often than not, my fingers find the tunes of songs like _Brahm's Lullaby_ and _All the Pretty Little Horses._

Ana's phone doesn't work in Alaska, so she's been walking to the local library to use the computer. Her emails come through every few days and I can tell that she's trying to sound cheerful, to make light of the situation:

 _They call the rain here liquid sunshine… We live at the top of a flight of stairs called Water Street… It's so wet here that I may start growing gills._

 _Jack and Corrine are treating me well… Her children are aged four and two and are so sweet… They seem to be good parents... We went for ice cream in town today._

I always reply as soon as I see her emails, but she never sends another message right away, and it's hard to have a real conversation. The time between her messages gradually lengthens, and I wonder if she's having a harder time getting back and forth - Or is it up and down? - to the library.

Finally, there is one last email in the first week of February:

 _I have to ask you for some space, Christian. My heart is aching to be near you, but I have to do this now. Looking forward to when we can be together again._

 **xoxox**

I'm walking into work one day in mid-February. The day is overcast and gloomy, and it reflects my mood. Since Ana left, I've been having good days and bad days. My staff - that's grown to number above fifty people - know to watch out when it's a bad day. We now occupy the entire third floor of an office building on the edge of downtown.

I enter the main lobby of the building and there are fucking flowers everywhere. _What the hell?_ One of the receptionists is cooing over an arrangement with a teddy bear and a red, foil heart balloon. _Oh no…_ I look down at my phone. February 14. Fucking Valentine's Day. _Fantastic._

Before I can put my phone away, it pings with a new message. It's probably my mother with a pity greeting for Valentine's Day. I roll my eyes and check the screen, but it's not my mother. It's Kate. _Kate!_ I thought she'd be celebrating the holiday in the sack with Elliot. At least things are still going well for those two. Or at least I assume they are… I haven't been to family dinners or talked to anyone much at all. I open the message.

 **7:33 AM**

 **Hey Christian,**

 **Ana just texted from Jack's phone.**

 **She's having the baby today.**

 **Thought you would want to know.**

Oh Ana… I am so mad at her for pushing me away, but my heart and mind are suddenly in Alaska, wishing her well. _Please, please be okay. Even if I can't be with you, please be okay._

I fire off a quick text to Kate, thanking her and asking her to please contact me with any updates.

I take the elevator to my floor, greet the staff that I pass, and manage to make it to the privacy of my office. I lean back against the door, gathering myself before going to sit at my desk. I distract myself with busy work - emails, going over the calendar, making a few calls - but I am checking the clock every few minutes.

9:45… 10:45… 11:30. I check my phone for a message from Kate. Nothing. How long is this going to take? I realize that I have no idea. How far along was she when she texted Kate? I assumed that if she said she was having it, she was _having_ it. But maybe things were just getting started. Maybe it was a false alarm. Maybe I have _no fucking clue_ because I'm not the one who gets to be with her. _And he does_.

I have to get out of this office. I head to the break room and there are three guys from finance eating lunch at the small, formica table. I can't stomach food right now, so I pour myself yet another cup of coffee. _Like that will help to settle my nerves._

One of the guys looks up at me. "Mr. Grey… Pardon me for asking, but are you okay?"

 _Don't I look okay?_ I check my reflection in the metal paper towel dispenser. My hair is standing on end, and my eyes are totally bloodshot. I most definitely _do not_ look okay.

The three of them look genuinely concerned, so - against my better judgement - I spill it. "No, I am _not okay_. My girlfriend is having a baby. Like _right now_."

They gape at me, then finally one of them breaks decorum by shouting, "Dude, what are you doing here? GO!"

I shake my head and sink into the remaining chair at the table. With my head in my hands, I start to explain what's going on. I don't really know these guys, but for some reason, that actually helps.

When I finish, I hear one of them say, "Man, that's heavy."

After a minute or two of silence, they get up and leave the room. One of them gives my shoulder a squeeze as he leaves.

The rest of the day drags on and still nothing from Kate. I head home, and at this time of year, it's completely dark… like my thoughts. I grab a beer and settle on the couch. What if something bad happened to her? To both of them? _And I wasn't there._

My phone pings. It's Kate… Fucking finally!

Filled with half excitement, half dread, I open the message.

 **6:07 PM**

 **It's a BOY!**

 **Oliver Raymond**

 **7 pounds 3 ounces**

My phone pings again and there's a photo. It's my girl and she's holding a pink-faced infant in a blue blanket. Someone - probably Kate - has cropped the picture, but I can tell there's an arm around my girl.

It's that fucking prick. _Jack._

I zoom in on Ana's face, and she looks happy. She's glowing. I close the message, send a quick thank-you to Kate, then lay my head back against the cushions. _Be well, sweetheart. And whatever you decide, be happy._

 **xoxox**

 _Two months later…_

APOV

I smooth down my gray pencil skirt, straighten my matching jacket, and take a deep breath before heading through the doors of SIP for the first time in over three months. After living in yoga pants and hoodies, the clothes feel strange and stiff. They're borrowed from Kate and - thanks to her slightly larger and curvier build - they seemed to fit all right. I'm not sure if I will ever be able to fit into some of my old clothes. My hips are slightly wider, my stomach - _ugh_ \- still a slight pooch, and my breasts… _Okay, don't think about it!_ Just the thought of feeding my son makes me ache with longing.

I make my way into reception, and Claire comes running out from behind her desk.

"Ana!" she squeals, and pulls me into a hug. "Oh it's so good to have you back. And girl... you look _amazing!_ "

I chuckle and get a good look at her when she releases me. When I left, Claire had shoulder-length hair with blue highlights. Now, her hair stands up in purple spikes, and she's wearing a black and yellow striped ensemble with red Doc Martens.

"I love your look, Claire, and your hair is _gorgeous_ ," I say. I can appreciate her style, but I could never pull it off. "Really, do I look okay?" I am second-guessing myself at starting back on such an important day.

During my extended leave-of-absence, I still received periodic correspondence by email. One of the all-staff bulletins had announced that SIP had been purchased. There was a 60-day waiting period before anyone would find out who the buyer was or before any changes would be made.

"YES, I promise you… and how's the baby?" asks Claire.

Tears spring to my eyes at the thought of him. _Oh, I am not ready for this. What was I thinking?_

Claire sees my face and I can tell she regrets bringing him up. "Hey, chin up… and just get through the day," she says softly.

I nod and head for the elevator, stepping out into the buzzing center of nerves on the second floor. The new owner will be here at 10:00 to make the announcement. And everyone is dressed to impress, trying to look vital and productive.

Making my way to my desk at the back, I smile and nod as a few co-workers call out 'hello' and 'welcome back.' My desk, empty of its customary piles of filing and manuscripts, looks foreign and too clean. My little jade plant is shriveled in its plastic pot - evidently no one had taken on the task of watering it - so I pitch it into the trash. I dig through my bag, taking out a small, framed photo, and put it in the empty spot where my plant had been.

I allow myself to glance at the photo for just a moment before tearing my eyes away. A spike of dark hair standing up in a baby mohawk, Jack's hazel eyes, a gummy grin. _Don't think about him! He's fine. He's happy and well-cared for. And that's all I can ask for, right?_

Hannah comes rushing in a minute later. She's always running just a little bit late… 9:03. Not bad, Hannah!

Like Claire, she pulls me into a hug and gushes over my appearance. Her warm, bubbly personality reminds me of how much I used to enjoy my workdays. Going to lunch with Hannah and Claire, gossiping, debating over which departments had _the cutest_ guys, telling them about my weekends with Christian.

 _Christian_ … my stomach clenches with guilt. I really should call him, tell him I'm back. I meant to do it as soon as I got back into town. But I was feeling overwhelmed and self-conscious about my body. I convinced Kate not to tell Elliot either, and she's pissed at me for making her lie to him and make excuses as to why he can't come over. I think the house was being sprayed for termites. Twice.

The 'todays' became 'tomorrows' and somehow those stretched into two weeks. And then there was the stress over getting back to work. But I'll call him… I will. _Maybe tomorrow..._

I reach out and touch my finger to Ollie's perfect little button nose. _Two months old_ … and he's worth all of it. The heartache, the tears, the pain… I would do it all again for this little boy.

I shake my head, pulling myself back to the present. I look into the office behind me, and it's still dark and empty, except for the overflowing piles of papers on the desk. I gesture over my shoulder to the office. "Still no new fiction editor?" I ask Hannah.

She shakes her head. "Nope. The hiring freeze is still making a mess of things around here. And we are way behind, especially in fiction. I'd hate to be the person to clean up _that_ mess."

I sigh, imagining my desk won't be empty for long. Rhonda, the editor over Hannah, had been parceling out work to me before I left. I have a feeling that the piles of work in the empty office will be migrating to _my_ desk before the end of the day.

But, first things first, we are all supposed to assemble in the largest conference room before 10:00. Hannah and I chat a bit more, use the restroom, and then get beverages for what's sure to be a long and stressful meeting. We enter the room and see that the conference table has been removed. In its place are rows of folding chairs. People are filing into them like cows lining up for the slaughter house… _Oh no. No, no, no…_ _D_ _on't think that way!_

No one knows who the new owner is, except those who are way, _way_ above me and my co-workers. But, of course, rumors have been flying.

 _The new owner is ancient, craggy, and set in his ways. He is against new authors. E-books? Might as well forget about them. The new owner is a ruthless businessman, set on breaking up SIP and selling it off for spare parts. The new owner is a woman, the mistress of our CEO, Jerry Roach…_

The chatter in the room drops to a murmur as Mr. Roach enters, followed by his assistant. I take a deep drink of my tea, look back up, and choke.

Coming in behind Mr. Roach's assistant is none other than Christian Grey. _My_ Christian Grey… My twenty-three year old, megalomaniac, lover… former lover? He looks incredible, of course, in a dark gray, three-piece suit. His silver tie is neatly in place, and it looks very familiar. _Oh shit… it's_ that _tie. I should remember it. It stayed looped over my headboard for a week._

I sputter as my tea goes down the wrong way, and cough, trying to catch my breath. Christian's bright gray eyes scan the room, then widen slightly as they fix on me. _Shit._

"Are you alright there, Miss -" he pauses, his gaze not leaving mine. It seems like the whole room turns to look at me, and I can feel a blush sweeping across my skin. _Doesn't he have a presentation to make? Really, I'm fine… I haven't stopped breathing_ _or_ _passed out. Yet._

I manage to nod my head yes, but his eyes are still intent on mine, waiting for an answer. And in that moment, I know he isn't just asking about my near-choking incident. He really wants to know… Am I all right? Am I _really_ all right? So much has happened since he last held my gaze. I left him. I traveled on my own to Alaska. I gave birth to my son. And then I made some of the most difficult decisions of my life.

"Steele," I manage to squeak out. "Anastasia Steele, um, fiction editor's assistant. And, yes - thank you - I'm all right."

Finally, he tears his gaze away from me, clears his throat, and launches into what I am sure is a well-rehearsed speech about his purchase of SIP. I don't even hear the words - they wash over me as I sink back into my seat. Christian has come bursting back into my life and, as before, he is overwhelming… exhausting… _and he makes my body hum in appreciation._

I watch him as he walks back and forth at the front of the room, in full-on CEO mode. His body language and his words are full of confidence, reassuring. It's mesmerizing… like a combination of a mother bear and a predator circling for a kill. I'm startled when I realize that, at times, he behaves - _behaved_ \- like this with me. Circling, wooing, and in complete control, whether the goal is winning over a group of nervous employees or getting between my legs. And, like these fine people, I was more than willing to roll over and expose myself completely to him.

 _And then his mouth would come in for the kill, those gray eyes looking_ _up at_ _mine, as he feasted._ _Fuck! I am at work - not in the bedroom - and he is now my boss. He is my boss's boss's boss. His company now owns the one that employs me. And I am one of his worker bees… a worker bee with sopping wet panties._

Applause fills the room, and I realize that the speech is over. Hannah nudges me, and I join in, of course having no clue about what was said. People stand up and begin filing out, and they all seem happy - _relieved_ \- and are chatting to each other.

"Wow, that sounds really promising, doesn't it?" Hannah bubbles. "I mean, at least he has plans to _expand_ SIP. And moving it to Grey House? He's got, like, a whole new building under construction. It's gonna be _swank_..."

SIP is moving to Grey House? _Oh my…_ I will be working in the same building as Christian. I really should have paid attention!

I file out of the room behind Hannah, managing to make it as far as the hallway before I feel a hand gripping my elbow. A very warm, strong, _Christian_ hand. And, as always, his touch sends a spark of electricity right through me.

His touch lingers for just a moment, just long enough to send me a message. _Wait. We're not done here._

He addresses Mr. Roach and the handful of senior editors that are clustered around him. "I understand that the role of fiction editor is still vacant? Perhaps Miss Steele here can shed some light on how to move forward. May we borrow this meeting room?"he asks, while indicating a small room across the hall. It's not a question and no one is foolish enough to think that it is.

We leave them, still in a cluster, gaping in the hallway and enter the small, interior room. It has no windows facing the hall, and as such is dark and completely private. Christian flips on the light, shuts the door firmly, and turns to face me.

Instinctively, like they prey that I am, I retreat until the backs of my thighs hit the conference table that dominates the small room.

"Anastasia," he says, and he's no longer CEO-Christian. His eyes are unsure, his voice soft and questioning. He closes the gap between us and reaches up, running his fingers down the side of my face to my chin. "I - I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were still in Alaska."

I lower my head, ashamed, and bite down on my lower lip. "Christian… I'm sorry. This is my first day back at work, and…" I shake my head as I feel tears filling my eyes. _And it's hard. It's so, so hard to be here._

"Shh… baby. I'm the one who should be sorry. I don't want you to get upset. Why didn't you tell me you were back in town? I could have picked you up." His hand travels from my chin down my side, then he slides it across my now-empty belly. "You look different… but _good_. I've missed you so much."

I shake my head. _Oh no. I should not have let this go on this long. How could I have let it go so long?_ _Because I was overwhelmed and upset, unable to deal with anything more, uncomfortable in my skin…_ But he won't think it's about me. He'll think it's about _him_. That I didn't want to see him. He won't understand.

I take a deep breath, let it out, square my shoulders, and just say it. "Christian, I got back two weeks ago."

His whole body stiffens, and he hisses, pulls away from me. "Two weeks?! You've been back for _two weeks?_ And even before that I didn't hear from you AT ALL…"

I nod. "I know… I meant to contact you, but I - things - were a mess, and I didn't…"

"You didn't want to _bother me_ with your problems, Anastasia? You think that little of me? Or did you just not want to see me?" Now his voice is sharp - acidic - and his words bite into me.

I shake my head. "No! Of course I wanted to see you… I _want_ to see you. I just wasn't ready…"

"How long until you'll be ready, Anastasia? Another two weeks? A month? Three months? Three years? Tell me if you want me to wait, and I'll wait. But if not…"

"Tonight. Let's talk tonight," I say, making up my mind. _It's now or never…_

"You still don't have car, I assume? You rode the _city bus_?" His lips are pursed in disapproval, but I still refuse to let him buy me a car.

I nod.

"I'll pick you up at 5:00. Will you be _ready_ by then?"

I nod and he turns on his heel and strides out of the room. As soon as he's gone, my legs turn to jelly and I collapse into the nearest chair, putting my head in my hands. _Holy shit._

 **xoxox**

I walk out a precisely 5:00 and Christian is standing next to his black SUV. I think _angry-Christian_ is being corralled for now, but I suspect he's lurking just below the surface.

"Hi," I say softly as I reach him. "Um, I need to get - home - before too long, so can we go somewhere close? Or on the way?"

"Still living in the same place, with Kate?" He asks.

I nod. I've already texted Kate and, as usual, she's my support and my rock. Sick of hiding me, she was thrilled to get my message. In typical Kate fashion, she replied:

 **All good.**

 **Good get him, girl!**

 **XO**

Christian opens the rear door - the rear door? - for me and, shooting him a questioning look, I slide in. There's a driver in the front seat. _He has a driver… When did that happen?_

Christian goes quickly around to the other side, getting in and then reaching over to put one hand on my knee. He hasn't made eye contact with me, and the gesture feels more possessive than affectionate.

"You have a driver?" I squeak, unable to mask my surprise.

"Yes, he's a driver and security," he says. "Ana, this is Jason Taylor. Taylor, meet Miss Anastasia Steele."

Taylor turns and looks at me. His face is impassive - a professional mask - but his blue eyes are kind. He's wearing a dark suit, and his strawberry-blonde hair is cut in a military-style buzz. "Ma'am, a pleasure," he says.

I giggle. Ma'am?! "I'm pleased to meet you too. And please call me Ana."

Christian rolls his eyes at my request for informality, but he doesn't comment. "The Mile High Club, Taylor."

"Yes, Sir," is Taylor's clipped response as he pulls into traffic.

"Impressive," I say, earning a smirk and a firm squeeze on the knee from Christian.

 **xoxox**

CPOV

Not having made a reservation, all of the private dining rooms are full. I swear under my breath and accept the offer of a fairly secluded corner booth. This is my favorite place to bring clients for important - negotiations - much like the one tonight. But, thankfully, Ana is much better looking than most who I bring here. One day, I will own this place and have a private room set aside just for me. But, enough thoughts of taking over the world. It's time to focus on my girl.

She slides in across from me, eyeing me from across the dark wood table with those gorgeous baby blues.

Speaking of babies… I didn't want to bring up the painful topic, but I suppose it would seem heartless not to ask. "So how's… _Oliver_ doing?" I don't think I have ever said his name out loud before. I keep my eyes on her face, trying to read her expression, ready to change the subject if needed. "Have you been in - contact - recently?"

To my surprise, her face lights up at the mention of him, _Oliver. Her baby_. "Oh he's great… he's just turned two months old, growing like crazy - loves to eat. He's already trying to roll over and he has the _cutest_ little dimples…" she gushes, and digs out her phone. "He had a great day, and look…" she holds her phone out to me and there he is - bigger and chubbier, and definitely less red, than his newborn photos. He has a shock of dark hair and a wet baby smile. _He's adorable… beautiful. And he's not here. He's not ours, and I'll probably never meet him in person._ He's that fucker Jack's son, and I cannot keep him connected with the baby I bonded with in the womb. The one who rolled around between us as we made love, who kicked me at night while Ana slept right through it.

The waiter arrives to take our drink orders. "Hendricks with cucumber," I say for myself, then gesture to Ana.

"Um… sparkling water with lime?" She says.

 _Hmm…of course she didn't drink while she was pregnant, but why no alcohol now? Has she never drank?_ I realize that I don't know.

"Anything to eat?" He asks. Again, I defer to Ana.

"No thank you," she says, "I need to get home."

The waiter leaves and I tease her, hoping to find out the answer as to why she doesn't drink. "Can't interest you in something stronger?"

She drops her gaze, frowning a little. "No, I'm good. I don't - I mean - I shouldn't drink because of - um," she lowers her voice, conscious of being overheard. " _Breastfeeding?_ "

And in that moment, everything flips and rearranges itself. I just stare at her and she watches my face as the pieces slide into place. She's overwhelmed because she's a new mother. She's bubbling over with excitement over Oliver because he's _her_ little boy. _She kept him… he's here. Wait, how did that happen? And where is he now?_

"I know… Christian, it's a long story. But yes, Ollie is with here with me… in Seattle. Kate picked him up from daycare, and they're at home waiting for me."

Ollie. _She has a little boy and she calls him Ollie._

 **xoxox**

APOV

In the course of about thirty seconds, Christian's expression changes from confusion to shock to… wonder.

Our drinks arrive, and I'm silent for a minute, letting it sink in.

"I know… I'm sorry. I know it's a shock and it's _a lot_. It is for me too," I finally say. "I need you to hear me out and let me explain, okay?"

He nods, but now there is a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. He looks… happy and _smug_. I'm sure he's in shock, and still angry with me, but he looks like a little boy who just got his way.

"So, in the state of Alaska, there is a six-week waiting period before parental rights can be terminated. I wasn't sure whether I should come home or stay… and in the end, Ollie decided it for me. His little tummy wasn't tolerating formula and the pediatrician said that if there was any way for him to get breast milk for at least the first six weeks…" I pause and shrug. "So it just seemed like the timing was meant to be. So I stayed in the house with them and… we got a pump and I pumped milk for him. Otherwise, Jack and Corinne took care of him - they fed him bottles, got up with him at night -" I pause again, running my finger along the edge of my glass. "And then one night, _two days_ before I was supposed to sign the final paperwork, everything changed."

I look up at Christian, who's patiently waiting for me to continue, his gray eyes are soft but curious. I gather my strength and take myself back to that night.

 **xoxox**

 _Two weeks earlier..._

My feet are squishing my shoes as I climb the steep stairs of our 'street.' As I approach the door of the trailer, I can hear him crying. I pause with my hand on the doorknob, wondering if I should wait for someone to get him before I go in. Unlike my indecisive mind, my body knows exactly what to do. Without warning, a warm gush of milk soaks me to my waist… _Yuck!_

I lean my forehead against the door and breathe… in and out. I realize that I am counting my breaths when I get to sixty. And Ollie is still crying, but now I can hear pauses in his wails as he tries to catch his breath. I realize that he's getting tired… _How long has he been crying? What the fuck is taking them so long?_

Shaking my head in frustration, I turn the knob and push the door open. I am hit full in the face by a strong chemical smell. What in the world? My heart rate spikes as I step all the way into the room. Jack and Corinne are both on the couch, and neither of them is moving.

I know that I've led a sheltered life, and I don't know much about this stuff, but I know enough. Jack and Corrine have been out here doing drugs with three children here, including _my baby._

And it's at that moment that the realization hits me square in the chest. _My baby. He's mine._

I dash into the children's bedroom, where Ollie is still screaming, his cries hoarse and more like gasps by now. I scoop him up, and his sleeper is soaked through. My eyes sweep across the room, my mind trying to decide what to do first. Both of Corrine's children are still fast asleep in the bed, all chubby limbs and dark curls. I lean over them quickly and am rewarded by the sound of their deep, even breathing. But they smell… sweet. It takes several moments for my brain to recognize the smell… cherry. But not like candy, like cough medicine. And then I see it. A half-empty bottle of cherry-flavored Ny-Quil on the dresser. _Son of a bitch._

 _Okay… first, change the baby._ He's still crying and his wet sleeper is cold. I lay him on the changing table and strip him down while he flails his tiny hands and feet, his eyes squeezed shut. I wipe him down quickly with a warm wipe, and put him in a dry diaper. He really needs a bath, but there's no time for that now. Second, feed the baby. I know I need to deal with Jack and Corinne. I need to call the police, and get someone here for the children, but not while Ollie is screaming.

There's pumped milk in the fridge, but I'll have to find a bottle and warm it up first. _Screw it. I am over denying that I am his mother._ I whip off my raincoat and my milk-soaked t-shirt and bra, grab a blanket, and sit down in the rocker. _Here goes nothing…_

Ollie's skin is warm and impossibly soft as it meets mine. He's still flailing and his little head is turning side-to-side, his tiny rosebud mouth opening and closing. I turn him to face me, and instinct takes over. He opens his mouth wide and clamps down - _hard_ \- on my nipple. Ah! I tense at the foreign sensation, then lean back in the rocker, willing my body to relax.

Ollie makes little grunting sounds as he swallows, and his body molds to mine as if we've been doing this all along. I'm holding him with one arm, but I take my free hand and stroke the velvety hair on his brow, then pull the blanket up over us both.

I lean over and grab my backpack, and pulling out my phone with shaking fingers, I dial 9-1-1.

 **xoxox**

I'm numb. The adrenaline that's been coursing through my veins for the last hour is ebbing away. I watch as the officers leave, Corrine's sleeping children in their arms. I know Corrine has family nearby, and I wonder if they'll go to them or to child protective services. I feel guilty when I think of sharing ice cream with them, of their innocent baby smiles. But they're not mine… _and Ollie is._

Jack and Corrine were still unconscious when the EMTs wheeled them out on gurneys. I heard one of them say something about it must have been a 'bad batch' as he hooked Corrine to an IV bag. I hope they both wake up chained to their hospital beds.

The last officer to leave was a female with soft, dark eyes. I know she's seen her share of this kind of thing. Even though I told them that I was okay, that I wasn't hurt, she paused in the doorway to check one more time. "You okay for the night?"

I nod my head and adjust Ollie on my shoulder. He fell into an exhausted sleep once his little belly was full. The officer nods and pulls the door shut behind her.

I sigh and sink down into the recliner. I don't want to go anywhere near the couch where they... and a shudder runs through me when I think of what could have happened. _What if I wasn't here? What if I had already signed away my rights and gone back to Seattle? What if they hadn't woken up… or caught the trailer on fire?_

I shake my head to clear it. All of these things could have happened, but they didn't. The officers took away the paraphernalia that was on the coffee table, but the air still held a trace of that odd, chemical smell.

I really didn't want to stay here tonight, but it was late, and - of course - raining. Where was I going to go? _Think, Ana…_ I nestle my nose in Ollie's soft hair and inhale his baby scent, and I think.

 **xoxox**

 _Back to the present..._

"So, I was at the social services office when they opened the next day. I told them to withdraw the termination paperwork, and we were on the next flight out of there. And I've been... hiding out, in shock, trying to adjust…" I don't realize that I'm crying until Christian reaches over and wipes the tears from my cheeks.

"Let's get you home," he murmurs.

It's only a fifteen minute ride from the Mile High Club to the bungalow, but I can't keep my mind from telling my body that I'm almost home to my baby. I pumped at lunch and again at 4:00, knowing that I wasn't going straight home.

 _Mmm_ … I cross my arms across my chest, willing my milk not to come down. But it's no good and I can feel moisture spreading inside my bra. I squirm in my seat and Christian looks worried.

"Are you okay?"

"Mmm… I started thinking about Ollie and my milk -" I feel my cheeks burn, and I know that I am blushing.

"Really? I mean I didn't know… about… you know." Now he looks uncomfortable. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I really don't want to whip out my breast pump in here, Christian," I say, motioning to the black bag at my feet. "So, no… but maybe just distract me?"

I look over and he has a mischievous look in his eyes. "I could - you know - relieve the pressure a little?"

"Ew… NO!" I laugh, and glance up at Taylor who's looking straight ahead, his face expressionless. "That's even worse!"

 **xoxox**

"Well, THANK FUCK!" Kate exclaims as we walk through the door. "I was tired of hiding you, Steele."

I roll my eyes. "I know, I know… thanks Kate, I owe you. And thanks for getting Ollie today."

"You got it. He's up in his crib. He had a bottle and passed out. I think his first day of school wore him out."

"Great, well I need to take care of some - business - I say," indicating my chest area. "Kate, Christian… Christian, Kate. You know each other… beers are in the fridge," I call as I hustle up the stairs.

CPOV

As usual, I feel too large for Kate and Ana's little bungalow. I take in the room, remembering the fun times we had here. I know that, at the time, things seemed overwhelming and stressful. But now, after all that Ana's had to endure, they feel like simpler days. Cuddling on the couch while watching foreign films, trying not to burn our mouths as we dug into cartons of steaming Chinese food, giving Kate and Elliot a hard time over their PDA while we were… I smirk as I eye the couch. _Fun times indeed._

But now… there's a baby in the picture. A real live baby whose needs far outweigh mine. Ana's upstairs with a baby… _her son_. I look around the room and see evidence of him everywhere. Like me and my brother, this little man has swept in and made so many changes in a short amount of time.

There's a bottle, with milk still clinging to its sides, sitting on the end table. A colorful fleece blanket is thrown over the back of the couch. Red and blue elephants march across the fabric. And there's some sort of baby contraption on the floor, with sort of a sling seat and toys dangling from a bar above it.

"Hey, Christian," says Kate. She's been sitting on the couch, watching me take it all in, pursing her lips when my gaze lands on the couch and smiling as I eye the baby gear. "Um, that's a bouncy seat. I'll get you a beer."

She's back moments later, and I take the ice-cold bottle, then sink gratefully onto one side of the couch. I take a long pull of the beer, letting it settle in my gut before trying to speak. "So, lots of changes around here, huh?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's been an adjustment, but… Christian, I'm sorry that we hid this from you and Elliot. Ana said she needed some time and…"

I wave her off. "Don't sweat it, Kate. I know this whole thing has been hard. And I hope that I can give her what she needs, get us back on track without screwing it up."

We both laugh at this, and I relax a little. We spend a few minutes catching up, and then Ana is coming back down the stairs. She's dressed casually now, in leggings and a hoodie… _my hoodie._ I smile when I realize that she's still been finding comfort in my clothes. I'd hand over my whole closet to her if I thought it would help.

Kate pops up and walks toward the kitchen, saying that she's going to order pizza and call Elliot. I thank her, but don't take my eyes off my girl. Before, she would have plopped on the couch beside me, maybe hooked one leg over mine. Heck, she might have even straddled me and… _Okay, cool it, Grey._

But right now she's standing awkwardly at the end of the couch, looking down at her feet as she traces a pattern on the carpet with one sock-covered foot. Finally, she straightens and her clear blue eyes meet mine. "Ollie's still asleep, but… Do you want to see him?"

I grin and nod, getting up from the couch. She takes my hand and leads me up to her bedroom, opening the door quietly. The room is dimly lit by the small lamp on her bedside table, and we walk over to the far corner. That corner is now occupied by a crib - a crib, because a baby lives here now. He lives in this small room with Ana, _his mother._

And then I see him, and every other thought - every insecurity - leaves my head. In their place, a feeling of warmth sweeps through my body. He is the tiniest, most perfect thing I have ever seen. Photos don't even begin to do him justice. He's lying on his back, one hand tucked under his chin. He's wearing a little one-piece sleeper, and his knees are pulled up to his belly. His tiny, rosebud lips pucker suddenly and make little smacking sounds.

Ana giggles, and says softly, "He loves to eat… even in his sleep." Then, "You can touch him, Christian. It's okay."

I reach out with one finger and slowly trace the row of snaps down his chest, then rest the palm of my hand on his tiny belly. It feels firm and round, and I just hold it there for a minute, feeling his steady breathing. "Beautiful," I manage to choke out. "Ana, he's just…"

"Are you crying?" She asks in a whisper, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yeah," I whisper back, "I think I am."

Now it's her turn to reach up and wipe away _my_ tears. She looks into my eyes and then pulls me in and kisses me softly. The feel of her lips pushes everything else aside, and I deepen it, pouring every feeling of love and loss that I have experienced over these past months into it.

She answers back, and we're lost in each other for minutes… hours? Until she finally breaks away and leads me to the bed. We curl up together and just talk about anything and everything, reconnecting and starting to find our way again.

I love the way her soft body is curled into mine, and she feels how much I appreciate it when she pushes her backside into my front. She giggles, "It seems that you're glad I'm back. I - um - got the Depo shot last month so we can… you know."

I inhale her sweet, apple scent. "Later… First, I want to ask you something. How do you feel about being the new fiction editor? Our new company will need strong, new leadership."

She stiffens and then rolls over to face me. "Christian, I've been back at work for _one day_. I'm an _intern_."

"Oh I have big plans for you, baby. Fiction editor… then owner of _Grey Publishing_ after I've convinced you to become _Mrs. Grey_ … four or five more children…"

She laughs in my face, rolls her eyes, and then she attacks me - trying to pin me down with her small body. I growl and roll on top of her - she's _mine_ \- and we fall into each other, and into oblivion.

 **The End**

Thank you SO MUCH for reading and for your support! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought.

I will be participating in the NaNoWriMo writing workshop for the month of November, and sinking my teeth into an ALL NEW story. I am hoping to have it out in the new year.

Until then… Happy Holidays and happy reading!


	4. Epilogue

**Author's note: I know, I know… I'm supposed to be on a break. But inspiration struck early this morning. Enjoy one last little nibble and find out what happens next...**

 **Epilogue**

 _ **Pollination = Multiplication**_

 **xoxox**

 _ **Present date: November 7, 2020**_

"PUSH, Anastasia!" bellows Christian. "You've got this, baby. Push harder!"

"Christian," I pant, feeling sweat breaking out across my brow. "I can't do this… it's too big!"

"You can do it… Count with me, okay? One… two… three…"

I grit my teeth and push as hard as I can, but it's no use. It won't budge.

"It's not going to fit! And I'm getting tired..." I throw my head back, trying to loosen the kink in my neck. _We've been at this for what, thirty minutes?_

"Maybe some more lube?" he asks, his voice pained and desperate. "Push!"

 _That's it…_ I collapse against his back in a fit of giggles. "You make it sound like I'm giving birth and I can't stay in the scene," I whine.

I step back from him and unhook the strap-on from around my waist. It clatters to the floor, and I scowl at it. It's bright blue and - I guess - kind of large. Kate and I got matching ones at the sex shop, and they were supposed to be fun.

 _I wonder if Kate and Elliot's fit_ … Gross. No, I do NOT want that mental picture in my head.

"I'm sorry, Christian," I say, sliding my hands up his back to his shoulders, urging him to turn around and face me. He sighs and turns around slowly, then grabs me and lifts me onto the pommel horse.

I squeal when my bare bottom hits the cool leather. This room in our new house on Lake Washington is technically our home gym, but sometimes we get creative with it. It comes in handy for various… _physical pursuits._

Christian stands between my legs, then leans in and kisses my belly. "It's okay, baby… and _baby girl_ ," he grins.

"Stop looking so smug that my birth control keeps failing," I say. _He really is unbearable sometimes._

"What can I say? I can't help it if I'm _extremely_ virile. Shots… pills… they're no match for my boys."

When this little girl makes her debut in three months, we will have three kids under three. There's Oliver ' _Pull-Out'_ Grey, Theodore ' _Oh, the shot must have run out early'_ Grey, and soon we will have Phoebe ' _Antibiotics and birth control are not a good cocktail'_ Grey.

"Christian, have you thought any more about the… you know, _vasectomy_?" I ask. We have been going around and around about this. "I can't keep having babies every eighteen months. I want my body back… and my career…"

"You know that you don't have to work, Ana."

And there it is… Let the bell ring for round two. "You know I love my job… I mean, you _gave_ _me the company_."

 _Who gives their wife a publishing company as a wedding present? Christian Grey does, that's who._ My gorgeous, gray-eyed, overbearing, megalomaniac husband…

 **xoxox**

 _ **Twenty-one months earlier… February 2019**_

I smile as I look around my brand-new office at Grey House. It's all silver and white, with splashes of color. I have a vintage teal couch at one end, where I can sit and have informal meetings. The coffee table in front of the couch displays several newly-published books from _my authors._

There are fresh flowers on my desk next to a photo of my boys… _Christian and Oliver_. Christian has a 9-month-old Ollie in one arm, and a freshly-caught King salmon in the other. They're wearing matching fleece jackets and waterproof waders and they're both smiling broadly. _I mean, who buys waders for a child who's not even walking yet? Yep, you guessed it._

After months of court dates, rescheduled court dates, and red tape, Christian had finally been able to adopt Ollie just after he turned nine months old. The state of Alaska had not been entirely happy with me for taking Ollie across state lines while his custody status was still undecided.

But, eventually we - and our overpriced lawyers - were able to convince the courts that I was justified in leaving with Ollie, and that Jack was an unfit parent. Once Jack's rights were terminated, we were able to move forward with the adoption. _Oliver Raymond Hyde_ officially became _Oliver Raymond Grey_ just days before his first Thanksgiving _._ When the judge announced our baby's new name, Christian fell to his knees and wept tears of joy and relief.

We celebrated our new status as a family of three by taking a weekend camping trip to Lake Sylvia on the Olympic Peninsula near Montesano, stopping to visit my dad on the way. Thankfully, it wasn't Ollie's first visit with his grandpa by far. It took Ray about two minutes to claim his grandson once he was in his arms, and now he can't get enough of him.

Ollie turned one year old last weekend, on Valentine's Day. My eyes move from the camping photo the the one of his face covered with cake… a heart-shaped smash cake, of course. He's walking and waving bye-bye and starting to talk, and he won't be our baby for much longer.

Next to him is a photo from Elliot and Kate's wedding last June. Everyone was surprised when they beat us to the altar, but it doesn't take a math whiz to figure out why. Baby Ava came screaming into the world just seven months later. She tipped the scales at nine pounds, and she's all blonde hair and attitude.

Ollie and I stayed in our little bedroom at the Montlake bunglow until after Kate and Elliot's wedding, and then we moved into Christian's palatial Escala apartment. We've added lots of rugs and colorful furniture, but it's still not an ideal home for a toddler.

Christian proposed in August in front of what turned out to be my engagement present… a huge, 1925 estate on the shore of Lake Washington. _I mean, who buys a house as an engagement present? Oh never mind…_

Christian insisted on the house… wanting room for Ollie to run, to have a playset, and maybe a dog. Maybe. That point is still up for debate. It was a shell of a house, but it has great bones. Elliot is renovating it for us, and we should be in by this summer.

We were married in October, in a small private ceremony, where Christian recited vows to both me and Ollie. There wasn't a dry eye in the arboretum that day. Our wedding photo is next to Kate's, a family photo that represents all we have overcome. Me, Christian, Ollie, Ray, Elliot, Kate - with baby Ava on board - and the rest of Christian's family - Grace, Carrick, and Mia - bright smiles against a background of colorful autumn trees.

Yep, life is pretty perfect right now. I just signed a new author, and he's supposed to be here in about thirty minutes. It'll be my first meeting in my _brand-new_ office. I should have my _brand-new_ assistant get us some coffee and muffins…

My thoughts are interrupted by a tap on my _brand-new_ glass door. The one that says _**Anastasia Grey - Fiction Editor and CEO**_. "Mrs. Grey?"

Ooh! it's my most favorite and yummiest visitor. "Hello, Mr. Grey. How can I help you?"

He smirks and strides over to my side of the desk, leaning in for a kiss. "Just came by to check on you… big meeting with your author today?"

"Yep, it seems like things are finally falling into place here. I love my new office… my name's on the door, my author's on his way, and _someone_ sent me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. I have no complaints."

He makes a little hum of appreciation as his fingers trail down from my chin to my neck. And then he stops when he sees my little morning snack that I've stashed behind my computer monitor. "Chili Cheese Fritos and a _pint_ of chocolate milk?" He asks.

He has every right to ask… I don't usually eat this kind of thing, but the combination just sounded _so_ good. And those puny 20 ounce bottles of chocolate milk just didn't look like enough. I don't really have an excuse for straying from my usual fruit cup, so I just shrug.

Christian resumes his humming and works his fingers on down to my chest, and then he grabs one of my breasts and squeezes. He doesn't even squeeze hard, but I just about leap out of my chair. "Ah!" I squeal. "What was that for?"

"I think, Mrs. Grey, that you're pregnant."

 _What? Now he's just being ridiculous. I can't be pregnant._ "Christian, I can't be pregnant. I'm on the shot."

"Mmmm…tent sex," he says, pointing at the picture of him and Ollie with the fish. "I think it was the tent sex." And he hums again as he leans in for his goodbye kiss. _His humming is really getting out of hand here!_ "Okay. Well, I'll see you later then."

And, of course, he was right. Our _Theodore Carrick Grey_ arrived just six months later, all 8 pounds, 9 ounces of him. And he's Christian's mini-me, from his gray eyes and copper curls to his domineering little personality.

Whatever Christian had held back from - and missed out on - with Ollie, he made up for with Teddy. He practically super-glued himself to my side, making it to every appointment and satisfying _all_ of my cravings… food and, um, otherwise. He had shirts made with 'Team Teddy - August 2019' made for everyone in the family, and he proudly wore his while supporting me through eighteen greuling hours of labor.

Jack was present for Ollie's birth, but only in body. He kind of drifted in and out of the room, staying gone for long periods and coming back reeking of cigarette smoke. When he was in the room, he played games on his phone or texted Corinne. I had to keep reminding myself that he was there for his baby, not for me. He did perk up a bit and show some interest when Ollie arrived, snapping a selfie of us on his phone… the picture of an (un)happy family.

 **xoxox**

 _ **Present**_

"Hey…" Christian's voice snaps me back to reality. He straightens up and kisses me between the eyebrows, where I have a little 'v' when I frown. "Where were you? You were a thousand miles away."

I force a smile and say, "Close… about 1100 miles, actually. I was just thinking about Ollie's birth with - _Jack_ \- and how much better Teddy's was with - _you_."

" _Everything's_ better with me baby. Haven't you figured that out by now? And just think… in three months we'll get to do it all over again."

"Yes, and I'm almost looking forward to it… and _of course_ I want to meet our baby girl," I say.

Christian's face lights up at the mention of her… she's not even born yet, and he's totally smitten with his daughter. He carries her ultrasound photos around with him everywhere and proudly shows her off - _'See those three little lines right there… yep, it's a GIRL'_ \- to anyone who makes the mistake of stopping to look. He came up with her name, _Phoebe Rose_ , and even I have to admit that it's better than Phoebe ' _Antibiotics and birth control are not a good cocktail'_ Grey.

Actually, I think he knew about the possible drug interaction and didn't say anything. He can never quite meet my eyes when I bring it up, which is often.

 **xoxox**

 **S** _ **ix months ago...**_

Bronchitis is a bitch, but I think the antibiotics are finally kicking in. It's the morning of the fourth day, and my head is actually clear. I can sit up without feeling dizzy, and lie down without breaking out into a coughing fit. I roll over and grip my husband where it counts, rousing him for a round of wake-up sex.

By afternoon, I am feeling well enough to venture out to the kitchen to get my own medicine. The first thing I see when I pick up the bottle is a bright orange sticker proclaiming _**May interfere with birth control pills.**_

"Christian, did you see this label?" I ask, whipping around to face him. He's busy giving the boys their lunches. Two-year-old Ollie is at the table feeding himself, and Christian is helping nine-month-old Teddy.

"Hmmm?" He asks, pretending to be distracted by 'flying' bites of food into Teddy's open mouth.

I roll my eyes, knowing that he isn't looking my way. _I'd know that fucking humming of his anywhere..._

 **xoxox**

 _ **Present**_

So here we are, with our third and last - _Please, let her be the last!_ \- baby on the way.

"I can't wait to meet her either…" he says, and starts to trail kisses down my body. From between my eyebrows, to the tip of my nose… my chin, my throat, all the way down along my midline to… _there_.

I gasp and grab the handles on the pommel horse to steady myself. Gus, our one-year-old Golden Retriever, chooses this moment to wander in and lick my toes. He's walking, pooping, shedding proof of how I hardly _ever_ get my way.

I giggle and Christian stops and looks up at me, frowning. "Jesus, Ana, I can't even smell your arousal. That strap-on didn't do it for you?"

"NO… I think we should stick with _you_ having the only dick from now on."

"And you'll still think the same of him… when he's shooting blanks?"

"Who, your dick?" I ask. He's trying to make a joke, but I can tell that there's a little bit of fear under the surface.

He nods, his gray eyes connecting with mine. _The little lost boy is still in there somewhere._

"YES," I say emphatically. "And you know what else it means? Unhindered, unlimited, worry-free sex for you _and_ your dick."

He smiles at this and leans in with a growl. "Okay… I'll do it. And now let's see what we can do with this pommel horse, baby."

 **xoxox**


End file.
